Mystery Girl
by Forever the Optimist
Summary: A typical day in the TARDIS takes an unexpected turn when an unknown girl suddenly appears unconscious on the floor. With no memory of who she is or why she is there, she, Clara, and the Doctor must figure out who she is. It will take Daleks, a planet covered in goo, souffles, and much more to get her back to normal and where she belongs. Which might be just where she is already...
1. An Unexpected Arrival

_Blackness. That's all._ _I don't_ _even know if my eyes are open, or if I have eyes to open._

"Doctor...Doctor, she's waking up."

"About time! You handle her, I'll take the controls."

"Oh no. You're the Doctor here. We aren't going anywhere anyway. I'll watch it."

"But Clara, she's my TARDIS! Clara..."

 _Silence._

"Clara?"

 _Another, longer pause._

"Oh, alright, you impossible girl."

"Somehow that didn't sound like a compliment." _She sounds amused._

"It wasn't," _the man mutters._

 _Footsteps. A hand touches my forehead, smooths my hair back. A soft yellow glow - I must at least be alive. Then the light turns green, and I hear a noise...I recognize this noise._

"Okay, girl, you've slept long enough for a human...I think...anyway... _Wake up!_ "

* * *

The girls jolted awake, brown eyes wide with alarm and confusion. Her hands darted about her, feeling her legs, face, hair, as though checking to make sure everything was there. The Doctor grinned and sat back on his heels, tucking his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket.

"Well. Good! Still alive after all!. I was beginning to wonder if...well, never mind that."

Slowly sitting up, the girl hesitantly asked, "Who...who are you? Where am I? What happened?"

"Oh, excellent, introductions and we aren't even in a hurry!" cried the Doctor, bounding to his feet and helping the dazed girl up. _"_ I'm the Doctor."

The girl stared. "Doctor who?"

"Oh, I love that bit," said the Doctor, beaming. "Just the Doctor, the eleventh, to be precise. Last of the Time Lords, from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous, over a thousand years old, you'll pick it up, they always do. And this," he said, turning to grin at the petite woman behind him, "is my lovely companion, Clara Oswin Oswald. My Impossible Girl. She's been traveling with me for a while now, and...what?"

The poor girl's face had gone from confused to baffled to utterly lost. "You're not making a bit of sense!"

"Of course I'm making sense!" the Doctor said, sniffing and running a hand through his hair. "You're just not keeping up."

Clara snorted. The Doctor shot her an annoyed glance, which she met with a raised eyebrow and just a hint of a smile. "Fine," he said, adjusting his large red bow tie. "So, that answers who we are, now what did you want to know next?" This last bit was directed at the girl, who was slowly shaking a her head.

"Everything!" she blurted.

"I believe 'Where am I?' was the next question," Clara inserted dryly.

"Ah, yes, excellent," said the Doctor, whirling around and kissing her on the cheek. She laughed, but made no effort to shove him away. "This," he cried, spinning back around just as quickly and flinging his arms wide, "is my TARDIS!"

"Start from the beginning, please," the girl said, seeming to get over her shock. "Assume I know nothing. What is a TARDIS?"

"TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, don't you know anything?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "She's my spaceship, if you will. She can take us anywhere in time and space, absolutely anywhere and anywhen you want to go. I stole her," he added, not looking the least bit ashamed. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. She is my everlasting companion," he said fondly, patting the large central console. "Usually she behaves, but every so often something goes wrong, something unexpected happens, some mistake...like bringing you here, for example," he said, turning his attention back to the girl now leaning on the outer railing.

"Thanks," she said, with a hint of a smile. "I just love being people's mistakes."

"Well, get used to it," said the Doctor. Before she could ask him what he meant, he had pulled out his screwdriver again.

"And what, pray tell, is that?" the girl asked cautiously, backing away.

"Sonic screwdriver," he said causally, flipping it into the air and catching it again. "Very good for opening doors, fixing things...no use on wood, though, don't know why...Now if I could just have a look at you...hey!"

The girl had made a break for the door. Before either Clara and the Doctor could stop her, she pushed the door open.

"What the..." she said softly, awed. For outside the plain doors was nothing but millions of stars, as far as the eye could see. After a long moment, she slowly turned and pulled the doors closed behind her. "I believe you now," she said quietly. "What do you need me to do?"

"Oh, nothing, really," the Doctor said, pulling her farther into the TARDIS. "Just stand still. And," he added, pressing the button on his screwdriver, "don't be afraid, that's very important."

"Yes, don't start now," piped Clara from around the console. "There's so much more to terrify you than just the screwdriver."

"Not helping, Clara," the Doctor said. The girl stood very still as the Doctor darted around her, looking like an overlarge moth fascinated by someone's porch light.

"I recognize that noise," she said, still frozen. "The screwdriver noise. I know that. I've heard that before."

"Have you?" said the Doctor curiously, pausing in his scanning. "How odd. And what's even odder..." He shut the screwdriver and returned it to his pocket, giving her a look she couldn't begin to decipher. "Who are you?"

"I'm...I..." the girl started, but then stopped. Clara, watching intently, saw a look of deep confusion and distress settle on the younger girl's face like a shadow. "I don't know."

"What's your name?" he persisted. "How old are you? Why are you here? Where have you heard the screwdriver before?"

"I don't know," she said again. "I don't know anything. Not who I am, not why I'm here...I search my memory and come up with nothing. Only stars." Silent tears dripped down her face.

For the first time, Clara looked at her, really looked at her. She appeared to be in her early twenties, only a few years younger than Clara herself. She had dark brown hair pinned up on her head, making a large enough bump that Clara guessed her hair would be quite long. Brown eyes, too, set deep in her pale face. She was taller than Clara, but not by much. Her face was dainty, almost elfin, with a mouth that naturally rested in a slight smile. It gave her a mysterious look, as though she knew something no one else did. Although in this case, Clara reflected, the opposite seemed to be true. A wave of pity washed over her, and she impulsively ran to give the girl a hug.

The girl practically fell into her embrace, weeping in earnest now. "There, there," Clara murmured, stroking her hair and sitting them both down on the steps that led up to the main level. "You'll be alright. We'll figure this out somehow. You don't know the Doctor. He's terribly clever, and he will go to any lengths to help his friends. Hush now." Clara kissed the sobbing girl's forehead, surprised at how motherly she felt.

Looking up, she saw the Doctor standing rather helplessly by the console. "Make yourself useful, can't you?" she said brightly. "Make a cup of tea or something." She watched as he scuttled sheepishly off to some unknown corner of the TARDIS.

"But that's the thing," the girl said, watching him go. "I feel like I do know him. And you, too," she added, turning around so she could see Clara clearly. "I don't remember meeting you, or knowing you at all. But you seem so familiar, both of you. Like echoes of a past life."

Clara smiled ruefully. "I know exactly how you feel," she said with a sigh. "Past lives are bothersome things, aren't they?" She smiled at girl's curious expression. "A story for another day, I think,"she said, getting to her feet and pulling the taller girl up as well. "For now we'd best figure out what to do with you!"

"Er...would a good cup of tea be any help?"

The Doctor stood behind them, placing a tea tray precariously on the TARDIS's console. He brought a steaming mug over to the girl, who sipped gratefully. "Feeling better, then?" he asked kindly.

"Much, thanks," she said, a small smile. "Well, I still know nothing, if that's what you're asking."

"I really didn't expect you to," he replied, running his hands through his hair again. "Well, you at least need a name. We've got to call you something."

Suddenly, a horrible thought struck Clara. "Your name's not Clara Oswald, is it?"

The girl stared. "I don't think so...and isn't that your name?"

"You've never been to Victorian London? Never been a genius Dalek?"

"Not that I remember..."

"And none of that seems familiar at all."

"Not like you, no. Nothing like that."

"Good." Clara slumped back against the railing, relieved.

"Er...why? And what's a Dalek?"

"Spoilers," the Doctor said, and turned to smile at Clara. She smiled back, hesitating at the sudden, unexplained sadness in his eyes. For once, she thought, he really looked his age. Then he turned back to the girl, and the moment was gone.

"Anyway, we still need a name," he said briskly. "This really is far too unusual for a typical sort of name, I would say. But then, I've chosen my name. So. What would you like?"

The girl looked startled. "Choose my own name? Isn't that the job of the parents?"

Clara laughed. "Well, I don't quite think that's going to happen today."

"You can choose," the Doctor said seriously. "I did. But remember: your name is who you are, who you will be to all those you meet. Choose carefully."

The girl thought for a moment, then looked up, a small twisted smile on her face.

"If my name is who I am, I think I know just the thing." She paused, looking at each face before her, Clara curious and expectant, the Doctor almost apprehensive.

"Mystery."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all! I certainly hope you all like this. I started this for a Doctor Who fanfic contest run by the Facebook page Allon-sy!, and seeing as I haven't sent it in to them yet, I've no clue what they think, but I thought I'd post it here first! So. I've only ever written from books before, so a TV show is certainly a new experience! But I've greatly enjoyed being able to watch the actors come alive in my head, hearing them say the lines and all that. Except Mystery, of course. But please, my Whovian family, let me know how I've done! I'd love for some guidance in this, as I'm sort of venturing into unknown territory. Thank you all so much!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	2. Mystery

The next morning, Mystery sat up in her bed and stretched. It took her a moment to remember where she was - for a moment she thought she had lost all her memories again, but very quickly everything came back. She looked around at the room the Doctor had found for her. It fit her so well she suspected that perhaps the TARDIS had created it just for her. She stood up and crossed to the wardrobe against the opposite wall. Pulling out one of Clara's robes that had been left for her, she discovered that hanging behind the robe was a pair of jeans and a deep red sweater. Gratefully, Mystery pulled both on, not entirely surprised to find that they fit her perfectly.

"Thank you," she whispered, patting the bedroom wall. She could almost swear she felt the walls hum in answer. Shaking her head at the sheer madness of it all, she quickly left the room, wondering what the others would say if they saw her talking to a wall.

* * *

When she found her way to the main room, Mystery saw that Clara and the Doctor were already there. Clara was sitting on the floor with a mug of tea while the Doctor darted around the console, looking for all the world like a child in an arcade trying to play six games of pinball at once, and for some reason, wearing a fez.

Clara, seeing Mystery's entrance, patted the floor beside her, where more tea was waiting. Once Mystery was seated, Clara handed her another mug and the sugar bowl.

"The Doctor does that too," Clara said with a smile, watching as Mystery dropped cube after cube of sugar into her cup. "Seems like it would taste more like sugar than tea."

"Exactly," said Mystery, grinning. Clara shook her head and the two sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the Doctor dance about.

"I like the sweater," Clara said eventually, stirring her tea. "It's a good color for you. Goes well with your eyes. I assume the TARDIS made it for you?"

Mystery nodded. "And the jeans too, I would guess," she added. "I just found them in the wardrobe. Thank you for the robe, though."

"Don't mention it," Clara replied. "I wanted to make sure you had something, just in case."

"In case what?" Mystery asked, eyeing the older woman over her mug.

"Well, the TARDIS was never very fond of me, for some reason," Clara said breezily. "Hid my bedroom once. I didn't sleep for weeks. And I got to spend the time with a different me from each night. Wasn't much fun. We've got an understanding now, sort of. She can be a bit possessive of the Doctor at times. She seems to like you, though."

"She?" said Mystery curiously, looking around at the massive room. "It's a spaceship, not a person."

"Yes, well, the Doctor calls her a she and I've learned to go along with it. She's certainly got a personality," Clara said, sipping her tea. "He's not always like this," she added after a bit, watching the Doctor leap about. "But we haven't really gone anywhere in days and he's getting a bit bored."

"Bored?" asked Mystery incredulously, wincing as a jet of smoke shot out of the console. "How could this ever be boring?"

"Nothing to worry about!" called the Doctor, scrambling to pick up the fez, which had been blown off in the explosion. "Just a slight malfunction...dimensional stabilizer's gone a bit wibbly...vortex loop's overheating...might be crashing...TARDIS is rejecting Mystery's DNA somehow, and I've only ever seen her do that when there's something here that shouldn't be...You're not a Dalek, are you?" he asked suddenly, screeching to a halt in front of Clara and Mystery.

"Of course she's not, don't be daft!" replied Clara angrily, coming to Mystery's defense. Mystery, who still didn't know what a Dalek was, could only shake her head.

"Part Dalek, then?" he continued, gripping the girl's chin and turning her head from side to side, peering into her eyes. Mystery started to reply, but had no sooner opened her mouth than the Doctor continued. "Of course, no point in asking you, I'll have to do some tests..." He trailed off, still examining her as though she were fascinating sort of puzzle he was trying to unlock.

"Er...Doctor?" Clara asked, gripping the railing. "You mentioned crashing?"

"Ah! Yes!" he cried, releasing Mystery and dashing back to the console. Mystery rubbed her chin and turned to Clara.

"What was that all about?"

"No idea," said Clara, ducking to avoid the Doctor's flying fez. "He'll explain in the end, though. He usually does. Sometimes. Anyway, I'd find something to hang on to."

Mystery grabbed tight to the railing as the Doctor spun back to them. "Right," he said, rubbing his hands together in apparent glee. "Good news and bad news. The TARDIS has detected the presence of a species she wasn't expecting, not necessarily hostile, but she wants to get rid of it."

"Get rid of me, you mean," said Mystery, not completely sure she had it right.

"I'm afraid so," the Doctor replied, beaming at her. "So, she's been trying to teleport you out of her since the moment you arrived. I wouldn't let her, of course, you're far too interesting to lose now, so she's taking matters into her own hands. If I'm reading the signals right, she's taking us to the nearest planet with a species aura that matches yours. So, good news is, we get to visit a new planet, maybe figure out who you really are," he said encouragingly.

"And the bad news?" asked Clara, knowing what was coming.

"Yes, well, the bad news is that in trying to override my commands, the TARDIS has overheated. The vector tracker's blown, so I can't land properly."

"So we're crashing," said Mystery, redoubling her grip on the railing.

"Possibly," admitted the Doctor, looking very excited. He grabbed hold of the console and Mystery screamed as the TARDIS started to spin.

"GERONIMO!"

* * *

 **A.N: Hello all! This is about the quickest I've ever updated a story in ever, so don't come to expect this! I know this one is a bit shorter, so my apologies. Also, I leave for my last year of diabetes camp (I've had Type 1 diabetes since I was three) on Sunday, so I won't be doing anything for a week. Sorry! I'm going to post more updates as to progress on stories and whatnot on my profile, if you care to check it out.**

 **Anyway, I hope the characters remain as vivid for you as they are for me, and that everything seems plausible. I'm very excited for the next chapters! I don't often have a full plot planned beforehand, so this is new and a lot of fun! Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	3. Ophir and Oobleck

The TARDIS hurtled downward, bouncing and spinning. The familiar whirring noise had taken on a frantic note. Clara, Mystery, and the Doctor all hung on for dear life as a robotic voice spoke from the console.

"Prepare for impact in three...two...one..."

 _BOOM!_

The trio inside were thrown to the floor as the TARDIS slammed into the planet below. It ricocheted, bouncing across the surface until at last it ground to a halt. The three looked at each other for a moment, making sure they had indeed settled. Then the Doctor carefully got to his feet and advanced towards the door.

"Stay quiet," he said in a hushed voice as the two women picked themselves up. "We've no idea where we might have landed, or who might already be here."

"TARDIS says it's called Ophir," said Clara, reading off a screen mounted on the console. "Supposed to be uninhabited. Still," she added, with a nod to the Doctor, "no sense in taking chances."

"Alright then," the Doctor said, looking excited. "Let's have a look-see, shall we?" As Mystery and Clara crowded behind him, the Doctor slowly opened the TARDIS doors.

Outside lay a very flat, red orange landscape with almost no distinguishing features, merely a rock spire here and there. The sky was a brilliant mass of roiling red clouds shot through with white lightning. The Doctor stuck a foot out and pushed down on the surface, hard. "Appears to be stable, anyway," he said, stepping out to have a better look. "Not much to look at," he muttered, staring up at the stormy sky.

"Not much to look at?" repeated Mystery from the door, awed by the sheer otherness of what she saw before her. "This is incredible!"

"Yes, well, it's nothing next to Galifrey," he said with a wink. "Come on, you two. Uninhabited it may be, but something about Mystery matches up, and we'd best figure out what." He stepped forward - or tried to. His foot had sunk into the surface of the planet.

"Doctor!" Clara cried. Quickly, the two women seized him under the armpits and tugged. Slowly, the red goop released him with a terrible squelching sound. When at last he was finally free, all three fell back in a heap on the TARDIS floor. When at last they untangled themselves, Mystery gasped, "What was that?"

"Interesting," said the Doctor, scraping a bit of glop off his boots and prodding it with his screwdriver. "Very interesting. Oobleck, I would guess, or something similar." He held up his screwdriver to his nose and sniffed the goo, then tasted it, earning him a disgusted look from Mystery. "Hmm...tastes slightly metallic...Odd. Very high shear rate, judging by the penetration depth, and works very fast, although the actual depth remains to be seen..."

"Er...what did you say that was?" Mystery asked Clara, who simply shrugged.

"Oobleck!" cried the Doctor, bounding to his feet. "You don't know about oobleck? You have it on Earth, you know. Ever mixed cornstarch and water together as a kid?" Clara shook her head, while Mystery could only shrug. "Of course, you wouldn't remember...Well, you would call it a non-Newtonian fluid, which basically means it can be both a solid and a liquid. If you put pressure on it," he said, prying a bit of the goop of the floor and squeezing it between two fingers, "it gets hard and solid. If left alone..." They watched as the oobleck slowly seeped through the Doctor's fingers and onto the floor. "So," he continued, going back to the door and gesturing out, "when we first landed, it might as well have been rock. But now, since we aren't exerting any pressure..." He looked towards the door. The two women followed his gaze and saw red oobleck slowly seeping onto the floor.

"The TARDIS is sinking!" cried Clara, alarmed. She dropped to her knees and tried to scrape the stuff back out the door.

"Clara, don't push!" Mystery said, dropping to the floor as well. "Remember? Put pressure on it and it'll just solidify!"

Clara blew her hair out of her eyes. "How else are we going to get it out, then?" she asked, irritated. "Ask nicely?"

Mystery slowly but surely eased the doors closed, scraping a good deal of the oobleck back out of the TARDIS. "Does that work?" she said with a small smile. Clara merely picked irritably at the remaining goop still stuck to the floor.

"Yes, yes, no worries," replied to Doctor absentmindedly, now flipping levers and pressing buttons. "I'm just going to move us onto one of those rock spires. Shouldn't be a problem. Do hold on, though," he added, glancing back at Clara and Mystery, who were still kneeling by the door. "We've got several centimeters of oobleck to get out of, you know."

"How could we forget?" muttered Clara, but she got to her feet and joined Mystery at the railing, holding on tightly for the second time that day.

"Here we go!" the Doctor cried as the central tube began its familiar motion. The whirr of the TARDIS got louder and louder until they finally broke away from the planet's surface. Once again, the trio were thrown to the floor as the TARDIS began to move normally. By the time they had picked themselves back up and dusted each other off, the Doctor was announcing that they had landed.

Mystery ran to the door and flung it open. She took a step only to find her foot dangling over empty air. "Doctor!" she shrieked, trying desperately to pull herself back into the TARDIS. She felt two hands under her armpits and moments later was pulled to safety. She glared up at the Doctor, who was making sure she was secure. "Did you neglect to mention the drop?"

He returned her glare with a beaming smile. "Look before you leap," he quipped, before leaping over her and out the TARDIS door.

"Doctor!" she cried, flinging herself towards the door. Clara joined her moments later. Both women looked down, but saw no sign of fez nor bow tie. "Doctor," called Clara, "Enough being clever, please."

"Look down," came his voice from somewhere below them.

"We are looking!" Clara called back, shaking her head. "No sign of you!"

"Farther back," came the reply. Craning their heads over the edge, they saw the Doctor waving at them from a small ledge in the rock. "It's not so far of a jump," he said with a smile. "I'll catch you."

Clara and Mystery looked at each other. "You first," they said together. "You're younger," Clara said, backing away from the door. "You've got better chances."

"You don't know that for sure," Mystery countered. "Besides, you've known him longer."

"You don't know that for sure either," Clara replied with a grin. "Time travel. Causes all sorts of problems like that. I've died enough for any girl, I think it's your turn."

Mystery sighed and headed for the door. "You're going to have to explain that eventually," she said over her shoulder. "The multiple lives thing."

Clara smiled and shook her head. "Patience, grasshopper,"she said in her governess voice. "It's a long story and we've got lots to do. Spit spot!"

"You're never bored, are you?" Mystery said with a sigh, settling herself in the doorway.

"Are you coming or what?" called the Doctor from below. "I am being extremely clever over here and there's no one to stand around looking impressed. What's the point in having you all?"

"I'm on my way, Doctor," Mystery yelled back, dangling her legs over the edge of the TARDIS. "You'd best be ready." With that, she closed her eyes and launched herself into space. For a few seconds, she fell, and then the Doctor snatched her out of the air and plopped her down on the ledge. It was larger than it had looked from above. _Thank goodness for that,_ Mystery thought. "Did you plan for all of this?" she asked as Clara slipped out from above and soon joined her on the ledge.

"Course I did," said the Doctor. "I always-" he tapped the side of his nose "-have a plan."

"He didn't," said Clara from behind him, hands propped on her hips and eyebrows arched. A smile lurked in her eyes, trying to get out. "He never does. Just makes it up as he goes along."

"Perhaps," admitted the Doctor. "But," he said, pointing his screwdriver at Clara, "I do it brilliantly. Now," he said, stowing the sonic and clapping his hands together. "Aren't you going to ask _how_ I am being extremely clever?"

"No," replied Clara promptly.

Mystery decided to take the bait. "Alright," she said with a hidden smile very similar to Clara's. "How are you being extremely clever?"

"Now that wasn't too hard, was it?" he said, patting Mystery on the back and shooting a mock glare at Clara, who only shook her head. "I have managed to analyze the metallic content of this oobleck here, and based on the surroundings and the chemical content and...so on," he finished hastily, seeing Clara's look, "I can tell you with 98% certainty that the source of this metal is from roughly that direction," he concluded, pointing directly away from the rock face.

"98%?" asked Clara. "And you're sure?"

The Doctor squirmed a bit. "Possibly closer to 85...69...okay, maybe 45%, but still, better than nothing. Can we just go that way?"

Mystery laughed. "Lead on, Doctor," she said with a mock bow. He flashed her a look of approval before clambering down the few feet of rock to the goopy surface below.

"Now just remember," he said, jogging in place as he waited for the two women to follow. "You've got to keep moving, keep putting pressure on the ground or you'll get sucked in, and we can't stop to save anyone or we'll all be gone. No time for hesitating!"

"Excellent," muttered Clara, picking her way down the rock. "I just love running."

"Do a lot of it, do you?" asked Mystery, following her down.

"You wouldn't believe how much. It's part of traveling with the Doctor. I've found it's best to stay fit."

"Now before we set off," said the Doctor once the two had made it down the spire and were stepping back and forth, "take a good look at the TARDIS to make sure we can find our way back." Dutifully, the women turned and looked. Mystery let out a gasp.

"That's it? That's the TARDIS?"

"What did you think it was?" asked the Doctor. "A police box?"

"But it's...it's..."

"Oh, go on, say it," said the Doctor gleefully. "I always look forward to this bit."

"It's smaller on the outside!"

Clara burst out laughing at the stunned look on the Time Lord's face."Most people say 'It's bigger on the outside,'" she explained. "Everyone, actually, with one exception."

"You," guessed Mystery.

"Right in one," she said, stifling giggles. "It's a rather unusual coincidence. Surprised him a bit," she added, elbowing the Doctor in the ribs.

"Oi!" he yelled. "I will have you know that I have lived for centuries upon centuries. I have seen the births and deaths of worlds and peoples you could never imagine. I have saved millions of lives and destroyed countless others, and I will not be treated in this manner!"

"Oh, hush, you," Clara said, though not unkindly. "It's good for your dignity." And she elbowed him again.

"My dignity?" he yelped. "I've got plenty of dignity."

"That's the problem," said Mystery, grinning at their banter. Clara nodded approvingly.

"We'll keep this one, I think," she said, grinning back at the younger girl. And the two burst out laughing.

"Well, come on then," yelled the Doctor impatiently after several minutes, and, still laughing, the trio began their jog across the odd terrain.

* * *

 **A.N: Wow, was this long! It may be the longest chapter of anything I've ever written! I hope you all are enjoying it! I'm having a blast writing it, more so than I think I ever have while writing. I finish one chapter and immediately want to start another. It's a wonderful feeling. Anyway, lots of foreshadowing going on, even if you aren't picking up on it :) You will understand in time, I should think. I probably won't update for a while though, because, as mentioned, I'm going away next week. So! Read, enjoy, and come back in a week! Thank you all so much for the reviews; I love reading them! And, of course, thank you for reading!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	4. Surrounded

"Doctor, you're quite sure this is the way?" Clara asked, puffing. They had been alternating jogging and speedwalking for what felt like hours, and she was cursing her high-heeled shoes. Mystery, watching the older woman struggle, was grateful for her far more sensible sneakers, although even she was starting to get blisters.

"Course I am," said the Doctor confidently, holding his sonic screwdriver out in front of him as he ran.

"What percentage?" asked Mystery with a smile, although she too was very out of breath.

"Don't be cheeky; it doesn't become you," the Doctor told her. Clara winked at her behind his back. "If you must know, I am 100% absolutely certain."

"How can you be?" asked Clara, both skeptical and impressed. "The sonic?"

"The sonic accounts for about 34%" he replied, flipping the screwdriver up and then sticking it back in his pocket, a feat made all the more impressive by the fact that he was now jogging backwards. "The rest is because I can see our destination." He flung out a long arm and pointed slightly to their left. Far off in the distance they saw a small black dot, one too large and too square to be a rock formation.

"Looks like a building of some kind," Mystery said, shielding her eyes.

"An old energy plant, I would guess. Huge, by the looks of things. No longer in use, but there are still trace amounts of metals and radiation in the ground," he said, patting his sonic fondly.

"I'm sorry, did you say radiation?" asked Clara, alarmed. "How long have you known about this?" She was doing a sort of odd little hop now, as though trying to keep herself from touching the oobleck beneath her feet. Mystery was trying to choke in her laughter.

"As soon as we got out of the TARDIS," the Doctor replied airily, still jogging along. "Come along, Oswald," he said back to Clara, who was still trying to avoid the ooze. Once the two women had caught up, the Doctor continued, "Thank you. Try to keep up, would you?" Clara opened her mouth to make some tart remark, but he cut her off. "I said trace amounts, remember. It won't leave any lasting damage. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?" Mystery repeated, now sharing some of Clara's alarm.

"Well, there's always a slight chance," the Doctor admitted. "Very very slight. But when aren't we in at least a little danger? Complete safety would take all the fun out of life!" Clara had to admit that was true.

"Well, come on, then," said Mystery, anxious to get going and get off this planet. "Our only chance of being able to rest is that blob."

'In that case," said Clara, kicking off her shoes and hooking them into her waistband, "let's get going."

* * *

At long last, the trio drew near the great metallic behemoth. As the Doctor had said, the building was enormous, although very economical. Nothing about it was meant to be beautiful - it was composed entirely of great metal plates, with a massive cargo door on the front. All three ran to the slight ledge that protruded around the edge of the building, presumably meant as a walkway. Once there, they collapsed, panting and massaging their feet.

"You weren't kidding when you said there was a lot of running," Mystery panted. "Is it usually this much?"

The Doctor, who was laying outstretched on the ground, shook his head. "This would have...to be a...record," he puffed, fanning his face with the ever-present fez. "Usually it's...short bursts. I never was any good at distance running," he added, finally catching his breath and propping himself up on an elbow. "Excellent sprinter, though."

"If I may interrupt..." asked Clara primly. She was sitting on the edge of the walkway, leaning on the wall of the plant and bouncing her bare feet on the goopy surface, then watching the imprints slowly disappear. "I couldn't help but notice that we aren't sinking...?"

"Right!" exclaimed the Doctor, bounding to his feet and pulling out his screwdriver. Mystery shook her head at his seemingly endless excitement and energy. Even after running for miles in a tweed jacket and a fez, he was still jumping about like any other day.

 _Any other day?_ Mystery thought to herself. _And how do I know what any other day is like?_ She watched him scanning the doors and walls with the screwdriver, thinking again how familiar the noise was. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and clutched her head, willing the memories to come back. To her surprise and delight, disconnected pictures flashed across her mind's eye: a tender smile, a glowing blue circle that whirred and buzzed, a grand city full of towers under a red sky, a line of a lullaby. Snatches of images she recognized but did not understand flew through her brain until a roiling white smoke appeared, filling her mind and smothering any hint of a memory. She screamed in frustration as she watched the last of the images fizzle and die, before even the memory of the memories was gone.

"Mystery? Doctor, we need you!"

She felt hands on her arms and shoulders trying to pull apart and realized she was crouched on the walkway. Despite the pressure on her to release her head and stand, she only curled up tighter, unwilling to lose whatever she had just seen. All too soon, however, the white smoke had eradicated any hint of what she had just undergone.

"Mystery! Doctor, come here! Mystery? What happened?"

Slowly, she sat up, looking around. "Why am I on the floor?"

Clara and the Doctor traded looks. "You collapsed," said Clara hesitantly. "You screamed once. We tried to ask what happened, but you wouldn't respond. It was like you couldn't hear us at all..." She trailed off at the blank look on the younger girl's face. "You don't remember any of this, do you," she said quietly.

Mystery shook her head, picking herself up off the ground. "Does it matter now?" she asked, curious about the compound once more. "Doctor, did you figure anything out about the walls?"

Clara opened her mouth to pursue the subject, but the Doctor shot her a look that clearly said _later._ She subsided unhappily, concerned for her younger companion.

"I did, actually," the Doctor said to Mystery. "It seems to be a kind of steel, but much stronger and more lightweight than anything you've got on Earth. Has a bit of aluminum in it, I'd say, and some nickel as well to control the crystal formation rate, give it more flexibility and heat resistance...In any case, impressive stuff. More advanced than I'd have expected a planet in this galaxy to be...But anyway, it goes all the way down to the center of this planet, which is a remarkable bit of engineering and also the reason we aren't sinking," he added with a nod to Clara. "Supported by a giant rock in the middle of all this." He swept his arm across the reddish landscape.

Clara nodded, trying to look as though she'd understood. "I suppose we'd best go in, then," she said firmly, putting Mystery's strange episode out of her mind for the time being. "Doctor, can you open it up?" she asked, gesturing to the massive cargo doors.

"No," he replied promptly. Clara propped her hands on her hips, waiting for the rest. _The Doctor,_ she reflected, _never simply says 'no.'_

"But?" said Mystery, who was clearly thinking along the same lines.

" _But_ ," he said, beaming at them, "I can open this." With that, he dashed around the corner of the building. Smiling and shaking her head, Clara followed Mystery along the walkway until they saw the Doctor standing by a much smaller door. "Maintenance, I would guess," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "But notice the shape of it."

Dutifully, Clara and Mystery noticed. The door was much shorter than any found on Earth, and wider as well, almost square. "Who is it made for?" Mystery asked.

"Better to ask 'what,' in this case," the Doctor replied, now trying to sonic the lock open. "And what it's made for, I suspect we'll soon find out." They heard a click as the lock popped open. Looking very pleased with himself, he pushed the door open and led the group into the murky blackness.

With only the light from the door and the screwdriver to guide them, the trio made their way into what appeared to be a storage facility. At least, Clara guessed it was used for storage. Glass containers of all shapes and sizes were stacked from floor to ceiling, filled with some kind of cloudy liquid. Clara thought she could see dark shapes floating in each. She shuddered and moved closer to the taller, more intimidating Doctor. "Is there anything here?" she whispered, the sound echoing in the dark room.

"Not that I can see," he whispered back, turning the sonic all around. "But that doesn't mean anything. We could be completely surrounded."

"Oh, that's encouraging," hissed Mystery.

"Slight chances," promised the Doctor. "Very slight."

"FREEZE, INTRUDERS!" A familiar, metallic voice shattered the hush.

With a sinking heart, Clara stopped in her tracks. All around her, small blue circles of light started popping into view.

"WHO ARE THESE INTRUDERS?"

"I'm the Doctor," he said as he stepped forward.

"THE DOCTOR MUST BE EXTERMINATED!"

All at once, the lights flashed on and Clara saw that the Doctor's earlier prediction had indeed come true.

Daleks. And they were completely surrounded.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello! Here I am with yet another chapter for you all. I honestly didn't expect to have anything done for you all today, but plans change and I ended up with more free time than expected. I hope you enjoyed the product of my labors! Mystery's little episode is rather mysterious, no? I'm overly proud of that bit, I think, but I'll see what you have to say! Do please leave a review: give me something nice to read when I get back on Friday! Better yet, something honest. That's what I'd really like. And if the two overlap, then so much the better! Also thank you to my two guest reviewers, whose reviews won't show up for reasons I don't understand...Help, anyone? Anyway, thanks for reading, and sorry about the imminent delay!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	5. Into the Power Plant

"THE DOCTOR MUST BE EXTERMINATED!"

Slowly, the Doctor raised his hands. Clara and Mystery quickly copied him.

"I don't suppose you'd believe we just wandered in?" he asked, though without much hope.

"EXTERMINATE!"

"Didn't think so," he muttered, turning around."Right, you two," he added, lowering his voice. "Here's the plan."

"Plan?" asked Mystery, somewhat hysterically. "Who needs a plan? They're going to kill us, you heard them!"

"No, they're not, or they would have already," said the Doctor sensibly. "So, the plan: do whatever they tell us to, and on my signal, run."

Another, larger Dalek rolled forward. "THE INTRUDERS WILL COME!"

"What's the signal?" Clara inquired, deceptively calm.

"YOU WILL BE SILENT! COME QUIETLY OR BE EXTERMINATED!"

"What do we do?" hissed Mystery.

"Come quietly or be exterminated," the Doctor replied, and he led the way through another squat metal door, three Daleks falling into formation around them.

They were guided into a long, square corridor. Both walls, floor, and ceiling were made of the same strange steel. The ceiling was low enough that the Doctor was forced to walk half-crouched. For once, Clara was glad she was small.

"Daleks have remarkably poor hearing," the Doctor whispered, his voice blending in with the hisses and creaks the Daleks made as they moved, "So we can try to come up with a plan."

"I thought you had a plan?" demanded Mystery, although also in a whisper.

"Course I haven't got a plan," the Doctor replied, chuckling a bit. "I never have a plan. But people love it when I say that."

"So what're you going to do?"

"Talk very fast, hope something good happens. That usually works," he said, winking. "And I suppose I might have a bit of strategy. Now. Most species have a weak spot. For Sontarans, back of the neck. For Daleks, aim for the eyestalk. Vashta Nerada, well...never mind that."

"Vashta what?" whispered Mystery to Clara, who only shrugged.

"As soon as we reach that corridor," the Doctor continued quietly, "punch the nearest Dalek right in the eye and run. It won't kill them, but it should buy us some time."

Mystery glanced nervously at the three glowing blue circles pointed right at them. Clara took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

"Look for a central power room or control room of some kind," the Doctor went on, oblivious to the younger girl's nerves. "That's usually where the important ones are."

"And how will we know it's a power room?" asked Clara tartly, something difficult to manage in a whisper.

"Look for the important ones," he answered, giving her a look that seemed to say that this should have been obvious.

"Isn't that where they are taking us already?" Mystery asked logically.

"Perhaps, but I don't like to take chances," he said seriously. Mystery stared. "Besides, this way we have the element of surprise."

"But-" Mystery began, looking at the fast-approaching hallway.

"No time for buts! Go!" he yelled.

Just as they reached the intersection between the corridors, Mystery lashed out at the Dalek flanking them on the right. She knew her aim was good, and she waited for the expected impact, but none came.

"Mystery, what are you doing?" Clara screamed from somewhere behind her. Jets of blue light flew around her as more Daleks appeared down the hall.

"I must have missed!" Mystery yelled back.

"Missed? You never swung!"

 _Never swung?_ Mystery looked down to find that, sure enough, her hands remained by her sides. She tried again, but could not force her arm to strike. As if in slow motion, she saw the one remaining Dalek - _her_ Dalek - turn and raise its gunstick. She could only watch, frozen by shock, knowing this was her end, not understanding why, regretting the life she could not remember.

"MYSTERY!" Clara screamed.

Then, just as the Dalek was about to fire, it exploded. Looking around, Mystery saw another large Dalek advancing down the hall.

"ORDERS MUST BE OBEYED!" it screeched. Confused and terrified, Mystery could only stare at her unlikely saviour.

Just then, the Doctor plowed into her from the side, knocking her to the ground and away from the Daleks. A bolt of light passed just over them, singeing the Doctor's hair. The jolt from the fall shocked her back to her senses. She scrambled to her feet as the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her along. More fighting broke out behind them, Daleks gunning each other down as cries of "EXTERMINATE THE DOCTOR!" and "ORDERS MUST BE OBEYED!" echoed down the hall.

"Doctor!" Mystery gasped, looking around. "Clara's not here!"

"I know," he said grimly as they rounded a corner. "She was already running when I had to come back for you."

Icy cold guilt crept across Mystery's heart. "So why are we walking away?" she demanded. "We can't just walk away! This is my fault, I'm the reason we're here!"

The Doctor turned on the spot. "Listen," he said quickly. "There's one thing you need to know about traveling with me, well, one thing apart from the blue box and the two hearts-"

"Two hearts?!"

"Shht!" he said, putting a finger on her lips. Her eyes widened but she said nothing more. "We don't walk away."

Slowly, Mystery nodded, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Understood," she replied, her eyes sparkling with the same light of adventure that shone in the Time Lord's. Then those eyes widened as she saw blue light reflecting along the metal corridor. "Now, Doctor," she said calmly, taking his hand. "Run." And she dragged him along the hall, deeper into the labyrinth.

"Whoa, hello," he yelled. "I do the hand-grabbing, that's my job, that's always me!"

Mystery raised one eyebrow, still pulling him along. "Live and learn, Doctor," she said with a hint of a smile.

He shook his head, catching up to her at last. "You remind me so much of Clara sometimes," he said, panting.

The two barreled around corners and hurtled down stairwells, deeper and deeper into the depths of the plant. As they went farther, the sound of machines humming grew louder and louder. Mystery could almost feel the noise resonating through her body. Just as she began to think she could stand it no more, they arrived at a door marked 'Control Room.'

"Well," remarked the Doctor, catching his breath. "There's a piece of luck."

Mystery stared. "You believe in luck?" she asked incredulously. He smiled down at her.

"Course I do. Why shouldn't I? You think I lived for a thousand years on skill and brains alone?"

"But you're a Time Lord! You can see all of time and space! Don't you know...well, everything?"

"I see all of time, yes," he answered gravely. "I see what has been, what might have been, what is, what could be. I see action and reaction, cause and effect. Time isn't a straight line, you know. When looked at from a nonlinear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's really a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey...stuff. My own future, and that of those around me..." he trailed off, his eyes far away. "Too much left to chance, too much at stake, too much could happen."

There was a pause, the Doctor lost in thought. Watching him, Mystery was struck anew by the sheer enormity of all the Time Lord had seen and experienced. Centuries upon centuries of lives, loves, and losses, gone now, but living on forever in the memory of the being before her. Then the Doctor seemed to realize where they were, and smiled at her, his eyes back in the here and now. He placed one hand on the door handle in front of him.

"Okay, when I open it, get inside fast. Might as well surprise them."

Mystery nodded, ready. The Doctor counted down from three, then threw all his weight against the door. Nothing happened.

"Must be locked," he grumbled, fumbling for his sonic. He blasted the lock for a few seconds, then tried again. Still nothing. The Doctor stared. "Never, not in all my centuries, has a _metal door_ resisted a good blast from _my_ sonic screwdriver," he muttered, now scanning the perimeter of the doorframe. After a few moments, he stepped back, a satisfied and embarrassed smile on his face. "Ah," he said, stowing the sonic. "Pull."

Laughing, Mystery shoved past him and pulled the door open. She darted through, the Doctor just behind her, and froze.

"Well," the Doctor whispered, stowing the sonic. "We found the important ones."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, my lovelies! I missed you all terribly! I had this entire chapter written out in a notebook over the week, and I just had to type it up for you tonight. I've got the next one done up too, just not typed. I will hopefully have it up tomorrow, Tuesday at the latest. It's going to be a whopper, I promise you that. I'm so incredibly excited for you all to read it, but I do need at least a little sleep tonight. Anyway. I apologize for that last cliffhanger, and for this one as well. Honestly, I genuinely didn't realize that last one ended like that because I had the plot planned so far in my head that that isn't where it ended for me, so I apologize. I'll be as speedy as I can with the next one to try to make it up to you. As always, thank you for reading, thank you to those wonderful few who have reviewed, and remember: I love to hear from you! Allon-sy!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	6. Power Struggles

Mystery and the Doctor stared around at the enormous room they had just walked into. Huge, intricate machinery stretched from floor to ceiling and covered every wall. More of the strange tanks from the first storage room were hooked into the system with pipes and wires, spaced seemingly at random throughout the room. The ceiling was slightly domed and covered with great glass windows, which displayed the roiling sky and gave everything a reddish tint. The edges of the room were largely in shadow. Daleks flew and rolled everywhere, tending to machines and guiding huge floating platforms that carried more of the odd containers.

In the very center of everything stood a raised, circular platform with a ramp at each cardinal point. Around the edge of this platform was a series of complicated-looking control panels, covered in buttons and levers and dials and gauges and other things Mystery could hardly describe, much less name. The entire effect reminded Mystery of the TARDIS. She could see the Doctor had come to the same realization, and, if his frown was anything to go by, he wasn't happy about it. His frown only deepened when they saw, cowering between two tremendous Dalek guards, a human in a scientist's white coat, frantically fiddling with the controls. There was no sign of Clara.

"I'm guessing those would be the important ones?" Mystery asked, indicating the two Daleks surrounding the poor man on the platform. The Doctor nodded. "And Clara's not here yet." He nodded again, although he looked a bit unsure. An uneasy feeling started to grow in Mystery's gut at the thought of their missing friend. "So...what now?"

The Doctor smiled, twirling his screwdriver. "We go say hello," he said, and he sauntered up to the platform. Mystery could only stare at him, walking into a swarm of Daleks without fear. The she realized she was being left alone in a swarm of Daleks and hurried to catch up.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the Doctor said, casually shoving his hands in his pockets. Every Dalek in the room from, some in midair, and slowly spun to face him. Mystery, catching up, was suddenly confronted with the sight of hundreds of glowing blue eyestalks. "Hmm, very nice," remarked the Doctor, now fiddling with his lapel. "Almost a hive mind, but more individuality...oooh, they've upgraded the Pathweb!"

"Pathweb?" Mystery whispered.

"The shared intelligence of all the Daleks," he whispered back. "More of a telepathic link than a shared consciousness. It contains information on their history, experiences, whatnot. Unfortunately, it also drives them to hate me...Clara erased me from it once, in a different life," he added. "Didn't work too well, though."

"She _what?"_

"Hush," said the Doctor, covering her mouth with his hand. "Brain working." Mystery surrendered and sat quietly while the Doctor thought aloud. "So, in order to have a complete connection and such perfect synchronization while still maintaining the ability to work independently, they would need some central focal point. Some sort of leader, if you will."

"Like that?" asked Mystery from behind his hand. The Doctor followed her pointing finger to see a Gold Dalek slowly ascending the other side of the platform.

"Yes," he said, removing his hand and patting the girl on the back. "Well done. Just like that."

"THE DOCTOR WILL APPROACH," it blared, it's luminosity dischargers glowing. Its voice was much deeper than any Dalek they had heard previously. The Doctor, maintaining his nonchalant air, slowly ambled up to the edge of the ramp, Mystery close at his heels.

"Alright, here I am," he said, smoothing back his hair dramatically. "No need to shout."

"THE DOCTOR WILL SURRENDER!"

"Well, I might consider it," he said airily, earning a shocked glare from Mystery. He dropped her a very subtle wink. "After all," he continued, flinging his arms out and spinning in a circle, "you've clearly got us _way_ outnumbered. And," he added, tugging Mystery up to stand next to him, "both of us are unarmed and harmless." He elbowed Mystery in the ribs.

"Um, yes!" she yelped, taking the hint. "Very harmless. Completely, in fact!" _Or at least I am, anyway._

 _"_ Right," he continued, displaying his empty palms. "No weapons, no plan, no way of escape. Terrifying, isn't it?" Something about the way he said it made Mystery wonder whether it was her that should be terrified, or the Daleks.

"So, of course I'll surrender," he continued. "On one condition."

"NO CONDITIONS WILL BE GRANTED!"

"Very well, have it your way." the Doctor shrugged and turned away. "But remember," he said, suddenly deadly serious. "Remember who you're dealing with. Remember that I have destroyed hundreds of thousands of your kind. Remember that I am the reason you grew to be as strong as you are. Remember that while the word 'doctor' might mean 'healer' to many, it means 'warrior' to many more. Remember that I am the last of the Time Lords, and _you_ are the reason for that."

He turned back around, and to Mystery's eyes, he seemed to have grown in size. His typical playfulness was gone, and in its place, the girl could see all the weight and authority of a thousand years burning in his eyes. There was hatred, too, a hatred so powerful and so everlasting that she was convinced he could see every Dalek in the room die by his hand and still feel no remorse. In that moment, Mystery was far more scared of the Doctor than of any Dalek. His voice seemed to thunder as he delivered his last line:

"Remember that I AM THE DOCTOR!"

Silence rang throughout the room. Every Dalek had ceased activity to listen, every platform stood still, even the machinery was quiet. Then, almost timidly, the Gold Dalek spoke up.

"WHAT IS THIS CONDITION?"

"Explain," he said simply. "Who are you, why are you here, why am _I_ here, everything."

A flurry of movement followed this statement. All the working Daleks turned and busied themselves with the machinery. The Gold Dalek went oddly still, its luminosity dischargers blinking, then rolled off the platform and into the shadows, followed by the two guards. The scientist remained, still feverishly tinkering with the controls.

"It's communicating with the Pathweb," the Doctor whispered. Mystery was relieved to see that his eyes were back to normal. "They weren't expecting that at all. Give them a minute to come up with something."

"As long as that something doesn't get us killed!" hissed Mystery.

"Oh, I don't think they'd kill us, exactly," he said calmly, thinking it over. "Probably do to us whatever's been done to that poor fellow," he added, pointing to the scientist. As they watched the frantic man, he suddenly turned and stared right at them, his face a clear plea for help. The Doctor sucked in his breath.

"What is it?" Mystery asked, wondering what could possibly be wrong now.

"I know him," breathed the Doctor. "Dr. Malcolm Taylor, U.N.I.T. scientific adviser, he helped me fly a bus through a wormhole a few years back, my new best friend. He hung up on me, actually, twice."

"Fly a _what_?"

"Not important. He's a genius, anyway, and if they've got him, that's bad news for us." They watched the man for a few seconds more while Mystery tried to work that out. He worked with an almost mindless intensity.

"But he can't be helping them out of his own free will!" argued Mystery, choosing to move on. "You saw his face, he's trapped same as we are!"

"I expect your right..." said the Doctor, hand straying towards his sonic. "I'd like to scan for a Pathweb connection, but it's best not to show too much interest now. It'll have to wait."

"Clara's still missing too, you know," Mystery reminded him.

"I haven't forgotten," he replied grimly. "Clara's resourceful, she can take care of herself."

"But she-"

"Ah!" he said brightly, cutting her off. "Here they come!"

The Gold Dalek had indeed returned, as well as the two others, now with a large platform floating along behind. On it rested one of the murky containers Mystery recalled from the storage room, although it was too high up for her to make out what was in it.

"DOCTOR!" the Dalek screeched. The Doctor turned to face the platform, his face a picture of interest and attention.

"IT IS TRUE THAT YOU HAVE POWER AND HAVE BROUGHT DEATH AND DESTRUCTION TO MANY OF OUR KIND. WE FEAR YOU AS NO OTHER CREATURE."

"Oh, stop it, I'm blushing," replied the Doctor, fanning his face. Mystery elbowed him.

"BUT WE HAVE LEARNED MUCH ABOUT YOU, DOCTOR. YOUR SUCCESSES AND FAILURES. YOUR STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES."

"Really?" asked the Doctor, picking at his nails. "Like what?"

"WE HAVE SEEN YOUR LOYALTY AND DEVOTION TO YOUR COMPANIONS AND YOUR FAMILY."

"Family?" he asked, now genuinely confused. "I haven't got any family. At least, not anymore."

"THE GIRL YOU CALL MYSTERY HAS TOLD US MUCH OF YOUR PAST. AND YOUR FUTURE."

"So is loyalty a strength or a weakness?" he inquired. "And what's Mystery got to do with it?"

The gathered Daleks made a noise that could almost be called laughter. "SPOILERS," the Gold Dalek blared.

The Doctor's face grew tight and hard. "Don't you dare say that to me," he said quietly, his voice cold as ice. "Don't. You. Dare." The Daleks made the laughing noise again. He rounded on Mystery, who was completely baffled. "What did you tell them?" he demanded.

"Nothing!" she cried, backing away. "I would never!" He glared at her some more. "Nothing that I remember, anyway," she conceded. The Doctor sighed and rubbed his eyes, the fury draining from his face.

"Alright," he said, calming down. "Alright. So, _Daleks,"_ he said, spitting the word out as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. "What's your offer? And it had better be a good one, with an explanation, because I am running out of patience."

"AN EXPLANATION WILL BE GIVEN FIRST," announced the Dalek.

"Excellent," said the Doctor, rubbing his hands together. "Let's hear it."

"WE OPERATE A POWER PLANT PUT IN PLACE THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO TO SEND POWER ALL OVER TIME AND SPACE TO HELP DALEKS ESCAPE YOUR SLAUGHTER."

"A noble mission, that," the Doctor commented, but his eyes were smouldering. "Is that how Dalek Sec escaped? You sent them extra power?"

"CORRECT."

"Well, that explains more than it doesn't," he muttered. "I always thought an emergency temporal shift like that would have completely drained their power cells. So how are you getting this power?"

"EVERY SPECIES HAS A UNIQUE ENERGY."

"Of course," he replied, nodding. "Basic interstellar biometaphysiology."

"THE MORE OF ONE SPECIES IS USED, THE LESS CAN BE GAINED."

"Ah, diminishing marginal returns," said the Doctor knowledgeably. "Well, sort of. The fewer there are of a species, the more the energy is concentrated. The more you use, the less you get from each. Human economics, you should know this," he added to Mystery, who was completely lost. "Do go on," he said, giving up on the girl and returning his full attention to the Dalek before him.

"THE ENERGY OF A TIME TRAVELER IS MOST BENEFICIAL TO POWER OTHER TIME TRAVEL."

"Well, of course it is. Only makes sense. So - aaah..." breathed the Doctor, realization dawning on his face. "I understand now."

"Good for you," huffed Mystery, tired of being out of the loop. "I don't."

"Come on, girl," he said, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake. "Put it together. They harvest energy. _Time_ energy. And the fewer there are in a species, the more energy they can get. So the perfect source would be...?"

"You," gasped Mystery, understanding at last.

"Me," agreed the Doctor with a grim little smile. He patted her cheek fondly. "I knew you'd get there in the end."

She batted his hand away. "Don't patronize me," she said angrily, but it was a half-hearted anger, and they both knew it. Then she gasped again. "So that's what's in all those container things! Different species, packed up and ready to have their energy drained!" Just then, a platform flew low overhead carrying one such container, forcing them both to duck. As they straightened back up, they could see a lumpy green body with large bulging eyes floating in the murk inside. It was clearly dead.

"A Slitheen," said the Doctor tonelessly. "Looks as though you're correct."

"Well, now what?" she demanded. "There must be hundreds of other tanks in here, not to mention that storage room. We can't free them all!"

"No, we can't," he said heavily. "And not all of them should be let loose, either. And we certainly can't get them all back where they belong. No, I'd say our best bet is to shut down the plant entirely and hope they can fend for themselves. I'll drop by in a few dozens years to clean up a bit, assuming..."

 _Assuming we live,_ thought Mystery, but she only nodded. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all they had.

"So," the Doctor said loudly, turning back to the Daleks. "You have information. Information about me. Well, that's no use in a bargain, I know that already, or I will soon. You Daleks may be a lot of things, but you aren't stupid. What makes you think I would give myself up without a fight?"

The Gold Dalek rolled forward, the floating platform following behind. "TO YOU, LOYALTY AND LOVE MAY BE A STRENGTH, BUT COMPASSION IS WEAKNESS TO DALEKS. WE HAVE USED THE GIRL TO BRING YOU HERE, AND WE WILL USE THIS TO KEEP YOU HERE." The platform slowly lowered, and at last Mystery could see what was inside. There, floating in the clouded green liquid, was a shape Mystery knew too well. The Doctor quietly whispered her name.

"Clara."

* * *

 **A.N: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to end in a cliffhanger, I intended to resolve this bit, but it got SO FRICKING LONG I just had to end it somehow. New record for longest chapter ever. This concludes what I wrote over the week, so the next updates will most likely not come as quickly. Gosh, I'm so excited about this. Poor Clara. I love her so much. But anyway! I'd love to hear your speculations as to what going to happen. If anything is unclear, leave me a review or shoot me a message and I'll try to clear it up in the next chapter. Unless, you know, spoilers ;) Darn Daleks. Please hurry and review or something because I am dying to know what you all think! Much love!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	7. The Doctor's Plan

"CLARA!" the Doctor screamed, the shock broken. The pain in his voice was raw and terrible to hear. Mystery could only stare at her friend, floating just out of reach in a tub of green liquid. The Doctor rounded on the Daleks. "What did you do to her?!" he roared.

"SHE IS STILL ALIVE, ONLY UNCONSCIOUS," the Dalek said, sounding almost amused. The platform lowered until it hovered mere centimeters off the ground and the container slid open, spilling murky liquid all over the floor, as well as Clara's body. The Doctor and Mystery ran to her immediately.

"Clara," the Doctor whispered, laying her head in his lap. His touch was incredibly tender and gentle, despite the fury Mystery still saw boiling underneath. "Oh, my impossible girl. What have they done to you now?"

Mystery picked up her wrist and felt it. "She still has a pulse," she reported. "With any luck, she'll come round soon."

"SHE HAS NOT BEEN HARVESTED. AND SHE WILL NOT BE IF YOU CHOOSE CORRECTLY."

"Choose?" cried Mystery, leaping to her feet and facing off with the metal monster before her. "Choose what? You haven't given us a choice at all!"

"Mystery, no" said the Doctor quietly, his anger contained. "I know what they want." Carefully, tenderly, he laid Clara down on the platform and got to his feet. He approached the Daleks, his face expressionless. "One time traveler for another," he said. "A Time Lord for a human. A life for a life. Everybody wins."

"Doctor, no!" Mystery cried, but he only held up a hand to silence her.

"EVERYBODY WINS BUT YOU, DOCTOR," the Gold Dalek blared triumphantly. "YOU WILL FEED OUR MACHINES FOR MANY CENTURIES. REGENERATION ENERGY IS A POWERFUL THING INDEED." The Doctor winced slightly, but held his ground.

"You will take Clara, Mystery, Dr. Taylor, and any other human being left on this planet to the TARDIS," he said calmly, in a voice that brooked no argument. "They will not be harmed. The TARDIS will not be harmed."

"YOU HAVE MY WORD." Without any visible command, the enslaved scientist left his controls and joined Mystery and the unconscious Clara on the low-flying platform.

"Doctor, don't trust them!" Mystery screamed. "Don't do this! We need you! There has to be another way!"

The Doctor turned away from her, his eyes cold. "There is no other way, Mystery. Take Clara and Dr. Taylor and get out. Get back to the TARDIS if you can. She'll take you home. Once you're there...let the TARDIS die. Just let that old box gather dust. No one can open it, no one will even notice it. Let it become a strange little thing standing on a street corner, and over the years, the world will move on, and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing."

Mystery, tears slowly leaving tracks down her face, nodded. "Anything," she whispered.

He turned and looked directly at her, his eyes seeming to stare into her soul. "Have a good life," he said quietly. "Do that for me." He smiled, as if remembering something, and Mystery saw that he was tearing up as well.

"I will," she said, wiping her eyes. "I promise I will."

The Doctor nodded, then turned away. "Right then," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and striding over to the Gold Dalek. "I'm yours. But oh, one last thing," he said, stopping just an arm's length away from the Dalek before him. "There is one thing you might have forgotten, just one little thing."

"WHAT IS THIS THING?"

The Doctor smiled, his whole face coming alive. "I always have a plan." With that, he whipped his hand out of his pocket and pointed the sonic screwdriver directly down the Dalek's eyestalk. "Say goodbye, Goldie!" he yelled, and pushed the button.

Chaos broke out all across the room. Every Dalek froze in place, those in midair dropping like rocks to crash and break on the floor below. Cries of "EXTERMINATE" echoed from every corner of the room. Bolts of light flew everywhere as the confused Daleks began firing randomly in every direction. Malcolm Taylor screamed, clutching his head. Sparks flew from machines all over the walls, and tanks everywhere exploded, blasting glass, liquid, and creatures of all shapes and sizes everywhere. Many of the recently freed prisoners turned on their captors, ganging up on Daleks and tearing them to bits. More than one was struck down by a stray blast from a panicking Dalek. Cries of all kinds mixed with Dalek voices and the sound of shattering glass to create a deafening cacophony that only seemed to provoke the Daleks more. The entire room was plunged into absolute mayhem.

"What did you do?" screamed Mystery, running to shield Clara from flying glass. The Doctor sprinted over to join them.

"I overloaded the Pathweb!" he yelled back, now searching the edges of the platform. "Every Dalek in here was connected to it, and the machines as well. Their processors can't handle the extra stimulus, so they're going beserk!"

"Yes, I can see that for myself, thanks!" she cried. "So what do we do?"

"Look for a power jack of some kind! Somewhere I can - ah, here we go!" He jammed the screwdriver into a small indentation on the front edge of the platform. "Get down and be ready!" he yelled, grabbing onto the still-screaming scientist's arm. Mystery hurried to secure herself and Clara as much as possible, lying down flat in the center of the platform.

"Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly!" she said loudly as a bolt of blue light passed just over her head.

"Right," the Doctor said, fiddling with the settings on his screwdriver. "Hold on, then!" With no further warning, the platform rocketed straight up. Mystery screamed and pressed herself further into the cold metal below her. "Prepare for impact!" He yelled. _Impact?_ Mystery thought to herself. But before she could open her mouth to ask, she understood.

"GERONIMOOOO!"

The top of the container that had once contained Clara smashed into the great glass windows, shattering them. Mystery hurled herself on top of Clara, shielding her from the worst of the shrapnel. The platform shot out of the power plant and sailed off into the roiling red sky.

* * *

 **A.N: Okay. So this is shorter, I know, but consider it the continuation of that last chapter. It was just getting far too long. Hopefully this ties up a few loose ends, at any rate. More will come in the next chapter, but I don't know when that will be exactly. Probably not today. I need to come out of this world and live in the real one for a bit. So! Hopefully you enjoyed. I literally gave myself the feels writing this, and that's not meant to happen. I hope you felt the same way so I had some excuse! Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	8. Back to the TARDIS

"Wahoo!" the Doctor yelled as the floating platform shot away from the smoking wreckage below. Bits of glass and drops of that odd liquid rained down as they soared into the sky. Dr. Taylor had stopped screaming the minute they left the building and was now curled in the fetal position, whimpering. Clara hadn't stirred. The Doctor took a minute to stare at the chaos he had created, smiling triumphantly, before turning to Mystery.

"Right. I don't know how long this thing can fly without the Pathweb connection. The sonic'll give it some juice, but probably not enough. I need you to hold onto the sonic and keep it locked in that power jack, alright?" Mystery nodded, dislodging some glass that had settled in her hair. "And do be careful," said the Doctor, brushing it away. "I'd hate to have you fall off after all the trouble I took getting you on here!"

Mystery raised one eyebrow. "Trouble, eh? That you took? Never mind the fact that you had me convinced I was going to have to watch you get _sucked apart_ by Daleks and not be able to do anything about it! Never mind that I'd have been left alone with a mad scientist and Clara, _who is still unconscious,_ to make my own way back to the TARDIS and _hope_ it would fly! Never mind that I have no idea what Earth looks like, let alone where I might be from or how to live a normal life! No, it'd be a shame for me to just _fall off_ now, wouldn't it?"

The Doctor smiled at her. "You've got a gob on you, haven't you?" he asked. "Come on, then. The screwdriver, if you would." Smiling in spite of herself, Mystery scooted over to kneel by the edge of the platform and grabbed the edge of the screwdriver. It was buzzing, not unpleasantly, and it throbbed in her hand, as though recognizing her as a friend. "The screwdriver is providing the link to control where it goes," he told her. "You don't need to work any controls, just think where you want it to go, and it will. However," he cautioned, "it does reflect your emotion, as well. Try to stay calm, or we're in for an awfully bumpy ride. So no pressure. Got it?" he asked.

"Got it," she replied. "Go help Clara out." As the Doctor rushed over to see what he could do, Clara started coughing up fluid.

"Hush now," he said tenderly, pulling her head into his lap and brushing her hair out of her face. "You're alright." With a forefinger, he scooped a bit of the green liquid off the platform and tasted it. "Just a..." his voice trailed off and his head thunked down onto his chest.

"Doctor!" Mystery cried, but a few seconds later, his eyes flickered open.

"What happened?" he asked, blinking.

"You passed out!" Mystery told him. "You licked that... _stuff_...and fell asleep!"

"Ah. Yes. A mild sedative with just a touch of memory loss," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "Very powerful, very fast-acting."

"Yes, I can see that," said Mystery tartly. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" asked the Doctor innocently.

"Don't, don't - " Mystery spluttered. "You can't just go around _tasting_ things without a clue what they are! What if it'd killed you?" That platform rocked and bucked.

"Well, clearly it wasn't going to, or Clara wouldn't still be alive," he said reasonably. "Calm down, can't you? The last thing she needs is to plunge to her death because some girl fussed too much, eh? Besides, now we know. Judging by how quickly I went under and how long I was out - how long was I out?"

"But-"

"How long?"

Mystery sighed. "Only a few seconds," she replied, giving up.

"Excellent. So if we factor that in, as well as the amount of fluid consumed, we can find the reaction and, using that, can calculate with some degree of certainty how long her stasis period will be, as well as how much or how little she'll remember."

"Excuse me?"

"Quiet, you," he said irritably. "Thinking. If my mathematics are correct - and no promises on that, it's been a _very_ long time since I was in school - she should be waking up around... _now."_

Sure enough, no sooner had the words left his mouth than Clara coughed again, hacking up more fluid, and began to stir. The Doctor shifted his arms and legs to help her sit up. With one final cough that racked her entire body, she opened her eyes.

"Doctor!" she rasped, her voice rough. "What happened?"

"The Daleks got you!" Mystery blurted. The platform lurched.

"Mystery!" the Doctor yelped. "Control yourself!" She took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm calm," she said, closing her eyes. "Go on."

"Right," said the Doctor, returning his attention to the woman in his lap. "I'm afraid she's correct."

"Daleks? Again?" Clara eyed the Doctor. "I'm not dead, am I?"

The Doctor smiled. "Not this time," he said warmly. "I saved you this time. Makes a nice change, doesn't it?" She laughed weakly.

"That it does," she agreed. Then her smile faded. "I was having dreams..." she said slowly. "Such odd dreams."

The Doctor and Mystery exchanged a glance. "What sort of dreams?" he asked cautiously.

"I dreamed that there were Daleks, like you said. They cornered me in some metal tube, and dragged me to a room full of light...it's all a bit hazy after that," she finished apologetically.

"Yes, I suppose it would be," the Doctor muttered. "Ah well, no matter. Short version: you got captured and sedated, Mystery and I found a Gold Dalek, he wanted to harvest my time energy in exchange for your life, I destroyed their new Pathweb connection, and we smashed through the window. Did I miss anything?" he asked Mystery.

"Only him," she said, giving the prone scientist a little kick. Dr. Taylor moaned, but otherwise didn't react.

"Oh yes," said the Doctor, helping Clara to her feet. "Clara, meet Dr. Malcolm Taylor from U.N.I.T. He's an old friend. Enslaved by the Daleks. In fact, if I had to take a guess..." Making sure Clara could stand on her own, he dashed over to the man, patting his pockets. "Blast," he muttered, glancing over to where Mystery still held the screwdriver tight to the power jack. "Well, I'd guess they hooked him into the Pathweb as well, based on his behavior, but I can't confirm it without the sonic...Never mind that. Anyway, he's along for the ride."

"Well," said Clara, swaying a bit. "There's an adventure. That almost makes me sorry I missed it."

"Oh, it was brilliant," Mystery agreed. "Terrifying, but brilliant."

The Doctor beamed at her. "You know," he said to Clara, "maybe we will keep her."

Clara sniffed in mock annoyance. "I claimed her first, remember. Back when we first landed. Credit goes to me."

"That may be true, _but,"_ returned the Doctor, "it was _my_ TARDIS that brought her here in the first place, so I think I can claim credit myself."

Mystery knelt there, hand still on the screwdriver, and watched them bicker. She was amazed how comfortable she felt, how at home, even though it had been less than a full day since she had arrived. These two people, still basically strangers to her, had become her whole world in no time at all, and even considering what they had just gone through, there was no place she'd rather be. Knowing they were now bickering over her gave her such a warm glow - it felt like being part of their family.

"Well she - oi!" Clara cried. "There's the TARDIS!" Sure enough, the TARDIS had just come into view, still balanced precariously on the rock spire. Just then, the platform lurched and dropped.

"Mystery!" the Doctor bellowed. "What's going on?"

"I don't know!" she cried. "I wasn't upset or angry or anything!"

"Then what - oh!" the Doctor smacked himself in the forehead. "Power must be running out!"

"I'm sorry, what?" exclaimed Clara, staggering as the platform swayed back and forth, still dropping alarmingly.

"Basically, crashing," said Mystery, gripping the screwdriver even more tightly.

"Again?!"

"Alright, we are crashing, yes," the Doctor said irritably, dashing over where Mystery was kneeling. "Let me have the screwdriver, I'll try to squeeze some more juice out of it."

"Doctor!" screamed Clara, now crawling over to Dr. Taylor. "He's sliding off!" The near-catatonic man was indeed slipping towards the edge, every jolt bringing him nearer and nearer to falling. Clara grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back, but he was a rather large man, and she a rather small woman, and he was soon pulling her along with him. "Doctor, help!"

"Blast it," muttered the Doctor, caught by indecision. He glanced at Mystery, clearly wanting to take charge of the sonic. Mystery waved him off.

"Go help them," she yelled. "I'll handle this!"

"How?" he yelled back. "You have no idea what you're doing!"

"I can't hardly make it any worse, can I?" The Doctor had to admit she had a point. "Go!"

"Just push as many buttons as you can until something happens." Mystery nodded. With one last look, he tore himself away and dashed to Clara's side. He grabbed Dr. Taylor's arm. "On the count of three, heave! Ready?" The platform lurched again, tipping a good deal of the man's feet over the edge. "Three!" he yelled, and pulled. After a few seconds of struggling, they managed to yank the scientist back to safety. As they did so, the platform suddenly leveled out and flew almost normally. "What did you do?" he shouted, leaving Clara to tend to Dr. Taylor and scurrying over to the girl.

"I don't really know," Mystery answered, fingers still moving around the sonic's handle. "I just did whatever felt right."

The Doctor stared. "You do know there's a one in 3,425,326 chance of you getting that right?"

"You know that exact number?" Clara asked incredulously from across the platform. "Do this a lot, do you?"

"Oi," he said, offended. "If there's one thing I know how to use, it's my screwdriver."

Clara snorted. "You do realize...oh, never mind."

"Whaaat?" he asked petulantly.

"Never mind," said Mystery, also struggling to hold in her laughter. "Just get us back to the TARDIS."

With a sigh, the Doctor took the screwdriver from her and expertly piloted the platform off into the roiling red clouds.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all! Happy two week anniversary! Hard to believe it's only been that long! I do hope you all are appreciating the amount of science I'm putting in here for you. I've done a good deal of actual research for this, and I'm quite proud. Oobleck is a real thing, go look it up. Also, I'm sorry for the seeming lack of actual events in this chapter. There was going to be more, but once again, the length got away from me, so that'll have to wait for the next chapter. I expected it to be short, but here I've broken 2,000 words. Sorry not sorry :) But anyway, thank you, loves, for reading this far and supporting me in this. The next chapter will most likely conclude this 'episode,' if you will, and start up something new! If you've got any suggestions as to what that should be, I'd love to hear it. I haven't quite nailed down what's going to happen, so I'd love to hear some input! You all have been, if I may say, fantastic. Completely fantastic. And you know what?** **So was I. ;) Much love!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	9. Dimensions, Distress, and Dr Taylor

They were all quite hot and bothered by the time the floating platform finally reached the TARDIS doors. With no way to hide from the burning red sun, not to mention the necessity of keeping one's balance at all times or risk falling into the goop below, every member of the group was ready to get into the TARDIS. The Doctor, in particular, was anxious to examine Dr. Taylor, who had passed out not long after their near loss of power. Cries of relief rang out as the Doctor steered the platform directly in front of the doors. He snapped his fingers and the doors slowly swung open.

"Everybody in!" he said cheerfully. Clara and Mystery seized the unconcious scientist under the arms and slowly tugged him off the platform and into the blue box. The Doctor then floated the platform down until he was out of the sight of the two women.

"Where's he gone now?" Mystery asked Clara as they carefully levered Dr. Taylor to the floor.

"Landing that platform thing, I assume," Clara replied, sitting back on her heels. "I wouldn't worry." Moments later, they saw the tips of ten fingers appear on the edge of the floor in front of the door. Moments later, the Doctor's head appeared, his chin resting on the edge. He grinned at them before dropping out of sight again, then levered himself up and into the TARDIS.

"Whew," he puffed, pulling the doors closed and leaning against them. "You'd think running around for a thousand years would keep a person in shape!" Mystery giggled as the Doctor bounded to his feet, evidently recovered. "I'll have a look at him now," he said, kneeling down next to the prone man. Clara and Mystery backed up to give him room, although Mystery paid careful attention to the Doctor's examination. "Let's just have a look," he muttered, pulling out the screwdriver and scanning Dr. Taylor's face.

"What are you looking for?' asked Mystery curiously.

"I want to see how the Daleks were controlling him," he replied.

"How do you do that?"

"Far too complicated," he said briskly. "Only a Time Lord would understand."

"Try me. You have no idea what I might know."

The Doctor glanced sideways at her. "Neither do you," he pointed out. "Why do you ask?"

"It's interesting," she said simply. 'Why? Is it a secret?" He looked rather awkward.

"Not a secret, no" he said slowly. Clara, overhearing, laughed.

"He's just not used to people asking too many questions," she said, laughing harder when the look on the Time Lord's face confirmed what she had said. "He's rubbish at explaining things, honestly."

"I am not rubbish!" said the Doctor indignantly. Clara raised an eyebrow.

"No?" she asked skeptically. "Let's see you explain exactly what you're doing so we can understand."

The Doctor swallowed hard an adjusted his bow tie. "Well, alright, if you must know, when I broke the Pathweb connection, the screwdriver automatically imprinted the wavelength and programming of it, meaning it will always recognize that exact frequency if it comes across it again. So, I'm looking to see if Malcolm here has that frequency buzzing around in that genius brain of his. Understandable enough?" he asked Clara tartly, who smiled and nodded. "See?' he added triumphantly. "Not rubbish at all!"

Mystery was fascinated. "So how does it recognize that? Just picks the frequency out of the air? Some kind of radar?"

The Doctor looked uncomfortable again. "It's sonic. That's what it does."

"But how?"

"It just does," he replied huffily, turning the screwdriver back to the scientist's face.

"Basically, he doesn't know," Clara said mercilessly. The Doctor was now pointedly ignoring both of them.

"How can he not know?" Mystery asked incredulously. "He made the thing, didn't he?"

"You'll find that with Time Lords, that means absolutely nothing," Clara sighed.

"Aha!" cried the Doctor, cutting off the conversation. "Just as I thought. They connected him to the Pathweb. Similar to the nanocloud conversions, but less complete."

 _Nanocloud?_ Mystery mouthed to Clara, who shook her head and mouthed back, _Long story._

 _"_ They still needed his mind, the independent free thought and originality that is so unique in you humans, so it's a weak connection at best," he continued, oblivious to the silent exchange. "Still powerful enough, though, to control him and bend his mind to their will. The connection is still there, with just a bit of energy remaining. Once that runs out...I only hope it hasn't done any damage," he added, eyeing the still-unconscious man before him. "I think we'll take him back to U.N.I.T. Theyll know what to do with him," he said, standing up and sticking the sonic screwdriver back in his jacket pocket. "I hope, anyway," he muttered, glancing back one last time before dashing over to the console.

"What happens when the energy runs out?" Clara asked cautiously. The Doctor slowly stopped fiddling with the controls and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Best case scenario, nothing. The connection fizzles out and he goes home to his family and friends on Earth."

"And worst case?" Clara probed, knowing what was coming.

The Doctor shrugged. "Worst case, well, let's hope it won't come to that." Without ever looking at the two women, he took his hands out of his pockets and began preparing the TARDIS for takeoff.

Mystery stood up as well, gripping the railing as the TARDIS began it's familiar _whoorm_ of takeoff. 'Does this thing ever do anything calmly?" she asked as she was jolted about, yelling to be heard.

"Where'd be the fun in that?" he yelled back. Mystery could only shake her head. _Typical Doctor,_ she thought to herself. Then she smiled ruefully. _But I wouldn't want him any other way._

"I'll be in my room," Clara called, disappearing through an doorway. Mystery saw she looked a little green, which was understandable. _Probably still getting over being dunked in green knockout juice._

When at last the TARDIS settled into flight, Mystery wandered over to stand next to the Doctor, staring avidly at the various controls. Noticing her, the Doctor asked irritably, "Now what?"

Only a few hours ago, Mystery might have been intimidated into silence, but it was amazing how surviving certain death with someone brought you closer together. "I've been wondering about the TARDIS," she began, but the Doctor held up a hand.

"Don't start," he said, resigned. "I know what you're going to ask." Mystery raised one eyebrow, much like Clara often did. "How is it bigger on the inside? Or smaller on the outside, as you seem to prefer." Smiling, Mystery nodded. "Alright, alright, I'll show you," he said, giving up at last. He reached into his pockets and rummaged about for a bit, then started flinging things out. "I know they're in here somewhere," he muttered. Mystery saw a banana, a pair of 3D glasses, a fob watch, a pink flowery lei, and several half-eaten jammy dodgers before the Doctor pulled out two small black cubes, one a little larger than the other.

"Don't tell me," she said, staring at the odd objects lying all around her. "Your pockets are bigger on the inside." He simply beamed. "Of course," she muttered. "Why am I even surprised?"

"Okay," said the Doctor, holding up the two cubes. "The TARDIS works the way it does because insides and outsides are not in the same dimension. Which box is larger?"

Mystery frowned. "What has this got to do with anything?"

"Just go along with it," he said, shaking the two cubes a bit. "Which one?"

Mystery sighed, resigned to confusion. "That one," she said, pointing to the cube on the left.

"Right," he said, beaming at her. He then took the larger box and placed it on the farther down on the TARDIS console, about a meter away. He then held the other close to the girl's face. "Now which is larger?"

"Still that one, of course," she said, pointing to the one resting on the console.

"But it looks smaller," the Doctor replied.

"Well, yes," she said, wondering where this could possibly be going. "It's farther away."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "If you could keep it exactly that distance away and have it here, the large one would fit inside the small one."

Mystery stared. "But you can't," she said, still struggling to understand. The Doctor smiled.

"Ah, but you can. Trans-dimensional engineering," he said, tapping the side of his nose knowingly. "A key Time Lord discovery."

"But-"

Any further questions were interrupted by a piercing scream. The Doctor whirled around, eyes wide. "Clara?" he yelled, slightly frantic. Moments later, her head appeared in the door, hair disheveled.

"I was going to get a bit of sleep," she said peevishly, rubbing her eyes.

"Then it wasn't you screaming?" the Doctor demanded.

"Course not," she answered. "Must have been him." And she pointed to Dr. Taylor, still lying on the TARDIS floor. As if to prove her point, the poor man screamed again, clutching his head. The Doctor was by his side in a flash, pulling out his sonic.

"The Pathweb energy's gone," he said, scanning the scientist's head. Suddenly, Dr. Taylor's eyes shot open. They were dilated and bloodshot. "Malcolm," the Doctor said, taking the man's face in his hands. "Malcolm, can you hear me?" Malcolm thrashed about, fighting for breath.

"Daleks," he gasped, limbs flailing wildly. "They know...they know..." He wheezed, face slowly turning red. He craned his neck around until he was staring directly at Mystery, who was still standing by the console in shock. "Don't trust her!" he managed, before he stiffened. Mystery watched the light go out of his eyes and knew he was gone. The Doctor slowly lay him down and closed the poor man's eyes, his face grim.

"Is he...is he dead?" Clara asked, her face pale. The Doctor nodded.

"Worst case scenario," he said heavily. "Mental connections...they work like a drug. His brain got used to taking orders, to looking somewhere else for instruction. Without that, it didn't know what to do with itself. Self-destruct, if you will. Just like the Daleks," he added bitterly. "No orders, no purpose, no life." He stood up, and Mystery could see suddenly that this was not by any means the first time he had done this. She wondered how many people he had lost, and how he kept going. "Get a blanket," he said to Clara, who nodded and disappeared. "We'll take his body back to U.N.I.T. He deserves a proper funeral." He turned to Mystery.

"How do you do it?" she asked, wiping away tears she didn't know she had shed. "Keep going after so many centuries of losing people, how do you do it?"

The Doctor stared at her for a moment. "One day at a time," he said finally. "That's the price of having companions. You can spend your whole life with me, but I can't spend my whole life with you. That's the burden of the Time Lord." He stared into her eyes, and Mystery thought she could see faces: a blonde woman with heavy makeup and nothing but love in her eyes, a man with bright blue eyes, a cheerful manic grin, and short blonde hair, a woman with long red hair who smiled through tears. Then Clara returned with a blanket, and the moment was gone.

They covered the body of the dead scientist with the blanket. Mystery turned around, unable to watch. When she looked again, Malcolm Taylor was gone. "TARDIS will keep him safe until we get back to Earth," the Doctor said, straightening up. "Let's take him home."

* * *

 **A.N: And, once again, I find myself not accomplishing quite everything I meant to in one chapter. I apologize for the delay, as well. My parents are making me get a job, so that's eating up some of my time. Development for the next 'episode' is well under way, though, so look forward to that. Maybe one more chapter first, based on how things are going. I know there are still a good deal of loose ends, which I will keep shoving back. I'll get to everything in the end, I promise. I'm actually quite emotional at the moment: I've never had a character die before, and I'm not sure I like it. But I do, somehow. Appreciation of the feels. Anyway. You understand, I'm sure. Also, I have decided to start up a little game to test your Doctor Who knowledge: Spot the Quote! Every chapter I write is littered with word-for-word quotes from past episodes. Many have references to past episodes as well. If you feel clever and recognize any, let me know in a review. I'll give a shoutout to the person who can find the most! I'll post them all in the author's note of the next chapter so you can see what you missed. If you feel like going back to the other chapters, go for it. I'll post as much as people are willing to look for. Thank you all so much for reading, and happy hunting!**

- **Forever the Optimist**


	10. Part Dalek

**A.N: This may look familiar, I've changed a few things I didn't like. Please read to the end!**

* * *

The journey back to Earth was not a pleasant one. Clara had gone back to her room to sleep off the aftereffects of the shock she'd had on Ophir. The Doctor, still grim and uncharacteristically quiet, was still at the controls, fiddling with things. Mystery sat leaning against the TARDIS door, miserable. The dead scientist's last words were ringing in her ears. _Don't trust her! Don't trust her!_ At last, she felt she had to break the silence, or that voice would drive her mad.

"Doctor?"

No response.

"Doctor, I'm...I'm sorry about your friend."

He sighed. "Yes," he said quietly. "So am I." There was a pause.

"Doctor, about what Dr. Taylor said, and the Daleks...I don't know what I might have told them, really, and I don't feel like I would ever do that even though I must have, and I'm the reason the TARDIS took us there in the first place, and if it recognized my DNA there then I'm probably a Dalek, and now you're all in danger, and...and I think you're right not to trust me anymore," she finished miserably, angrily wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

The Doctor took a deep breath, then turned around to face her. "Mystery," he said, his expression impossible to decipher. "Come here." Slowly the girl stood up and walked over to stand in front of him, head hanging low. Using one finger, he lifted her chin until he could stare her in the eyes. "Oh, Mystery," he whispered, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "It would take a lot more than that for me to stop trusting you."

Mystery looked at him in astonishment, her brown eyes boring into his. "But-But you heard them, same as me! 'The girl you call Mystery has told us much of your past, and your future,' and Dr. Taylor told you not to trust me, and he's a genius!"

"Yes, I heard, and yes, he is," the Doctor replied, smiling a little. "But he is a human and that was a Dalek. I am a Time Lord, and I can tell for myself who to trust. Whatever you might have done is in the past now, and I know you won't do anything like that again. If I didn't trust you, do you think I'd have ever let you even touch my sonic screwdriver, much less teach you how to use it? Besides, there've been loads of times you could have sabotaged me already today, but you didn't, and that's what's important. A Dalek would never let an opportunity like that go by, never fail to exploit a moment of weakness. Daleks feel only hatred, not guilt, or sadness or love. Only anger. That's how Daleks convert people: subtract love, add hate. You're no Dalek, Mystery. Not at all."

Mystery smiled up at him, sniffing. "Thank you, Doctor," she whispered.

"Oh, come here," he said, pulling her close. She buried her head in his shoulder as he held her, hugging her tight. For a moment, one brief, shining moment, Mystery felt so completely safe. For that moment it didn't matter that she might have betrayed them all, didn't matter that she didn't even know her name. This felt like home.

"But," the Doctor said, breaking the hug and holding her at arms length, "if you don't mind, I would like to take another look in that head of yours to see what's in there."

"Of course," Mystery said, wiping her eyes dry. "By all means. I'd love to know more about myself."

"Excellent," he said, beaming and pulling out his sonic. "Just hold still, then. You know the drill."

Mystery stood frozen as the Doctor waved the screwdriver all around her, bathing her in green light. "Didn't you do this once already?" she asked. "Shouldn't you already know all there is to figure out?"

"I was scanning for _who_ you were, not _what_ you were," he answered, poking her from behind with the screwdriver for her cheek. She grinned over her shoulder at him. "Very different processes. No active Pathweb connection, anyway, that's for sure." Just then, Mystery felt a sharp pain on the back of her head.

"Ow!" she cried, whirling around. "Are you pulling my hair?"

Sure enough, the Doctor was busily feeding one long brown strand into a machine on the TARDIS console. "Needed a DNA sample," he said, not ashamed at all. "Easiest way. Oi!" he yelped, jumping away. Mystery had poked him firmly in the ribs. "S'pose I deserve that," he muttered, rubbing his side. "Anyway, a few minutes, we'll see if there's any Dalek in you."

"Good," she said firmly. Then, struck by a new thought, she asked, "Doctor? Back in that Dalek plant, in the hallway...I couldn't hurt them. I tried, but my arm wouldn't move. It was like the message couldn't get through. My brain told it to move, but nothing happened."

"Yes, I do remember that," he answered, turning to face her and studying her intently. "Something in you stopped you from harming them. Like self-preservation, but in another species...Hit me," he said suddenly. Mystery blinked, surprised.

"Sorry, what?"

"Hit me," he repeated. "Punch me. Take my head off. Just to see if you can. See if this block applies to everything. And make sure you mean it."

Mystery thought about it, then shrugged. "Well, if you insist." With that, she raised a hand and slapped him hard across the face. _Smack!_ The Doctor went reeling, staggering back against the console. Mystery rushed to help him stand, instantly apologizing.

"Don't fuss," he said, waving her off and rubbing his face. "I did ask you to. Well done!" he added, giving her an excited sort of smile. "You've got quite an arm on you! And now we know. Whatever block you've got does not apply to Time Lords."

"So what do I do?" she asked anxiously. The Doctor shrugged.

"Nothing for now. Just don't run into any more Daleks."

 _Ding!_

"Ah!" he exclaimed, dashing back to the console. "Here we go!" He swung over one of the hanging screens and pulled up the report, Mystery standing just behind him on tiptoe to see over his shoulder. "Alright then, let's see..." He typed in some commands and a section of text appeared. "Okay, DNA analysis report...blah blah blah...here. 'The DNA given for analysis contains-'"

"A dormant Pathweb connection," Mystery read. The Doctor turned and stared at her. "What?"

"You do realize that's written in Gallifreyan."

"So? You've got a translator thing, haven't you? Or do Daleks always speak English?"

The Doctor glanced back at the screen, still displaying the report, then spun back to Mystery. "The TARDIS doesn't translate written Gallifreyan."

It was Mystery's turn to simply stare. "Then...I can read Gallifreyan? How?"

"That, my dear," he said, raising an eyebrow, "is not something I can answer."

Mystery sighed, then pounded herself on the forehead. "I hate not knowing anything!" she yelled in frustration.

The Doctor patted her on the shoulder. "Hush now," he said soothingly. "It's the stress getting to you. Not to worry. I'm sure everything will come back in time. Be patient."

"I hate being patient!"

"Agreed," the Doctor said with a grin. "Patience is for wimps. But think how much you've already learned: you know how to use a sonic screwdriver, you read Gallifreyan, and you've got a bit of Dalek bouncing around in your brain. About that-" he added before Mystery could say a word. He turned back to his screen, typing furiously. "It does seem to be completely inactive. Probably why you weren't affected when I blew it up. And, now that the source is gone, they shouldn't be able to reactivate it." He smiled encouragingly at her. Mystery was unwilling to be cheered just yet.

"So I am part Dalek, then."

"No!" he exclaimed. "Of course not. Well, not really, that is, mostly not. Only part way." Mystery glared at him. "Well, alright. Part Dalek, yes, I suppose so. Not genetically though, none of your ancestors were Daleks. You've been...converted."

"Converted," she repeated, not liking the sound of that.

"Like Malcolm. The Daleks have perfected nanocloud technology, which basically means that they can animate any kind of organic material, alive or dead, and turn it into their puppet. However, he retained his free will, which means it must be a less complete conversion than I've ever seen. They had control, but he still was able to apply human ingenuity."

"So the Daleks could control me at any second. And I wouldn't know it. I could be a Dalek right now!" Mystery was already spiraling back into her misery. How could they possibly trust her now?

"Nonsense," the Doctor replied. "There's ways to tell. And besides, my analysis shows that you have a dormant connection, and furthermore, it hasn't been activated since you first entered the TARDIS. I'll know, don't worry."

"But-"

"I've got to tell Clara," he said, dashing up the stairs to the archway on the upper level. "Call me when we've landed." Before Mystery was able to protest she didn't know how to tell when the TARDIS had landed, he was gone, leaving her alone in the room and feeling inexplicably lonesome.

* * *

 **A.N: Okay. Hello again. For those of you who might be confused, yes, this is the second time I have posted this chapter. I just didn't like the way the first draft was going, and I've adjusted the plot some as well. What you read before may or may not be significant any longer. Sorry. But I do like this much better, for whatever reason, so I hope you aren't too disappointed. Anyway, a shout out to AnimeStitches for being the only one to catch any quotes at all. I'm very disappointed in you all 3. If you are interested, I will hopefully post a full list of quotes and where they're quoted from in my profile soon, so go check it out if you're interested. There is maybe one quote in this chapter, but there's plenty still unfound in what's already been posted! Next chapter will begin their next adventure, and I think you'll like it. I hope so. So anyway. Thank you all so so much for reading, and please let me know what you thought! Much love to you all!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	11. Welcome to Earth

Mystery sat alone in the TARDIS's control room, thinking. So much had happened in the past 24 hours that it hardly seemed real. Woken up with no memories on a space ship that could travel through time, landed on a planet covered in orange goop, been captured by Daleks, escaped through a window on a flying platform, watched a friend of the Doctor's die right in front of her, and now she was part Dalek. A very eventful day. And now they were going to Earth, or possibly back to Earth, to meet up with an alien task force and give them the body of their dead comrade.

 _Not exactly the greatest introduction,_ she thought ruefully. But that seemed to be how things were with the Doctor: very sudden, no introductions needed. And she found that she didn't really mind. What she did mind, however, was being left alone.

"Doctor!" she called. "Doctor, Clara, come out please!" In a few moments they both appeared, Clara now dressed in a short plaid sweater dress and looking much more refreshed.

"What's the matter?" the Doctor asked, bounding down the steps and checking the controls. "I told you to call me when we landed!"

Mystery shrugged apologetically. "I don't know how to tell."

Clara walked up beside the Doctor and bumped him with her shoulder. "Do you mean you left poor Mystery alone with the TARDIS while you went gallivanting off to wake me up with your Dalek nonsense."

He looked rather uncomfortable. "Well, yes," he admitted. "And that wasn't nonsense!"

Clara shook her head. "Get some manners, Doctor." Mystery laughed.

"I have got manners!" he said indignantly. "I think you'll find I am universally recognized as a mature and responsible adult." With a flourish he pulled out a bit of paper in a billfold and brandished it at Clara. She looked at it for a moment, then at him.

"It's just a bunch of wavy lines."

"Oh, bother," said the Doctor, shoving the paper back into his coat pocket, clearly exasperated. "Shorted out again. I thought it'd be less of a lie by now. At any rate, I have got manners."

"Oh?" Clara asked skeptically. "Did you tell U.N.I.T. we're coming?"

The Doctor squirmed. "Er...things came up...Just a moment," he said, and dashed over to the door. He opened it, reached out, and pulled in a large black phone attached by a long coiling cord. "Remind me to patch that back to the TARDIS console," he said to Mystery, tugging the phone over to the console. Mystery watched as the cord stretched and stretched, seemingly endlessly.

"How does it do that?" she asked, plucking at the cord and watching it sway.

"What, this?" the Doctor asked, glancing at it. "Clever phone cord. Longer on the inside. Now, bit of hush, thank you!" He started punching keys on the console. "Got to remember the number, very important number." They heard a ringing, then an answering machine.

"Hello, Pizza Geronimo?"

"Oh, very good!" the Doctor exclaimed, hanging up. "Fine name for a pizza shop. Now, what did I- Oh, seven six, not six seven." Again, they heard a ring.

"This is the Unified Intelligence Task Force. Please select one of four options. If you-"

"Oh, enough," said the Doctor irritably, zapping the phone with his sonic. "I hate those things."

A burst of static, then a women's voice. "U.N.I.T. helpline. Which department would you like?"

"Er..." the Doctor cast a panic-stricken look at the two women.

"Personnel?" Clara suggested.

"Personnel," repeated the Doctor, shrugging.

"Please hold," said the voice, then music began to play.

"Ah!" the Doctor said happily, recognizing the bouncing tune. "Carmen! Come on, Clara, you loved this when you were Oswin!" Tossing the phone to Mystery, he seized Clara's hands and danced her all around the room. After a few moments, a new voice came on the line.

"U.N.I.T. personnel department, thank you for waiting, how may I help you?"

"Yes, hello," said the Doctor, taking the phone back from Mystery and jamming it to his ear. "This is the Doctor. I'm calling to tell you we've found one of your missing members, Dr. Malcolm Taylor. Unfortunately, he died not long ago. We'd like to bring back his body. Where would we go?"

"One moment, please." Silence from the other end of the line. The Doctor held the phone against his chest.

"I just love these professional types," he said in a half-whisper. "No fuss, no worries, just get you what you need." Clara and Mystery glanced at each other, smothering laughter. That kind of people were everything the Doctor was not. "Course, they're no fun, either," he added, and the two women quickly looked away.

"Doctor?" asked the voice from the phone. "We currently have a team out investigating the ruins of a collapsed church. Some of the construction workers have been acting very odd, and one of the higher-ups thinks it may be extraterrestrial. They'd like you to take a look as long as you're here. I'll send you the coordinates. They will be prepared to take care of Dr. Taylor as well."

"Yes, brilliant, thank you," the Doctor said, watching as his hanging screen came alive, a string of numbers scrolling across it.

"You're very welcome, Doctor," the voice said politely. "And may I say, it is an honor."

"Er, yes, quite," he said, before the line went dead. "See?" he said to Clara, brandishing the phone at her. "I have so got manners!" Clara could only shake her head. "Anyway, now that we've got coordinates, we should be landing very soon." The central console tube gave its familiar _whoorm_ noise.

"How soon?" asked Mystery. The Doctor went over to the door and pulled it open.

"Now," he said with a smile. Clara and Mystery crowded behind him as he stepped out of the TARDIS.

They had landed in the middle of a cobblestone street, facing the ruins of what Mystery assumed used to be the church the U.N.I.T. woman had mentioned. It was a cloudy, wet, grey day, and the air was still full of dust. Debris was strewn everywhere. It was a rather gloomy scene. The street was blockaded on each side by large blinking signs. Police tape was set up all around the collapsed building, and people in official-looking uniforms were swarming about the ruins. Several large pieces of construction equipment stood idle nearby - all work had clearly been put on hold. The Doctor, taking it all in, strode over to where the most official-looking people stood. Mystery and Clara followed close at his heels.

"Hello," he said brightly, tapping a short black woman on the shoulder. "I'm the Doctor," he said once she'd turned around. "This is Clara and Mystery."

"Captain Erisa Magambo," she said briskly, not batting an eye at the younger woman's unusual name. "We've met once before, Doctor, although you looked rather different."

"Oh, yes, of course!" the Doctor said delightedly. "With the bus! Yes, I remember. The great two hundred."

"Indeed. Sergeant Rathley has a team prepared to receive the body." With a sharp hand gesture, Captain Magambo signaled a young man with an easy smile standing at her side, who gave a sharp whistle. Moments later, two men and a woman broke off from the church ruins and came to stand behind him.

"Lead on, Doctor," he said cheerfully. The Doctor started over to the TARDIS, then turned back.

"Tell these two whatever needs telling," he said to the Captain. "Phone line said something was going on. I'll be right back." With that, he led the way over to the TARDIS, the four soldiers following behind.

"Right," said Clara, trying to sound official. "What's been going on?" Captain Magambo looked at her for a moment, sizing her up, then spoke.

"You are currently standing in the town of Ahren, slightly west of Oxford. This," here she indicated the ruins before her, "occurred two days ago. There's been a terrible amount of rain recently, which weakened the foundations and caused it to collapse. No one was injured, but very little could be salvaged. Only some of the artwork and precious artifacts survived. Those have been taken to another church across town for safe-keeping. Some of the workers who first responded to the scene have been recently acting unusually: depression, paranoia, hallucinations. There have been at least three cases who have reported at least one of these symptoms. For lack of other explanations, we've been called in to investigate." All this was said very quickly, as though the Captain was giving a report to a superior. Clara and Mystery were rather taken aback, and it took a few seconds for either of them to process that the smaller woman had stopped speaking and was waiting for a reply.

"Er...alright," said Clara, coming alert with a jolt. "And you think it's some kind of alien, then?"

"We are unable to find any other explanation," Magambo replied briskly. "All three victims appeared to have been mentally sound before the collapse, and nothing out of the ordinary has occurred to any of them."

"Right then," said Clara, casting about for something else to do. "Mind if we have a look at the ruins?"

"Of course. Watch your step." The Captain strode purposefully towards the collapsed building, Clara picking her way through the debris behind her. Mystery was about to follow when the Doctor bounded up beside her.

"What did I miss?"

Mystery looked at him. He seemed fine, considering he had just helped carry out the body of a friend, but something about him seemed fragile, as though he'd shatter if pushed too hard. "You're quite sure you're alright?" she asked doubtfully.

"Course I'm alright. I'm always alright," he said cheerfully, although it seemed a bit forced. Mystery, however, decided not to pursue the subject and quickly caught him up on all that Captain Magambo had told them.

"Interesting," he said, staring at the church ruins. "Well. Whatever's going it has to be connected to this church. Let's go have a look!" And he strode over to the edge of the scene. Mystery followed close behind. She had recognized the look in the Time Lord's eyes. This whole situation had piqued his curiosity, and nothing would stop him getting to the bottom of it now. She was just glad to be along for the ride.

* * *

 **A.N: And a new adventure begins! Lots to be uncovered, literally and metaphorically, and I'm very excited about it. Hopefully you all are too! My list of past references is up for sure now, and I will post those for this chapter after the next chapter is up, so if you recognize anything, be sure to let me know before then! Also, I'm always looking for ideas for a third adventure - I've found the more time I play with an idea, the better it gets, so it's best to start early. If you've got something special you'd like to see the trio go after, let me know and I'll see what I can do! Once again, thank you all so much for reading this far and sticking with me! We're over a thousand views, and that's super very exciting seeing as it's barely been up a month! Thank you!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	12. Blink

"Oh, excellent," exclaimed Clara as Mystery and the Doctor walked over to where she was standing. "Captain Magambo and I were just about to look through this mess," she said, indicating the collapsed building behind her. "Fancy coming along?"

"Of course," the Doctor replied with a grin and a little bow, taking her arm. "Captain, if you could clear the premises for now?" The Captain nodded and gave a few sharp commands. Within minutes, all U.N.I.T. officers were out of the rubble, leaving it clear.

"The area is yours, Doctor," she said, saluting. "Although, do try not to break anything. It may be evidence."

"I never break things unless I mean to," he answered innocently. "And don't salute. I'm no soldier." "No, Doctor?" she asked, politely skeptical. "Then what are you?"

He looked at her for a moment, taking her question rather more seriously than Mystery had expected. "I am an idiot with a box and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out. That's all." Captain Magambo gently inclined her head.

"If you insist, Doctor. But to U.N.I.T., you will always be a hero." And she turned and strode back to her waiting troops.

"She's quite a personality," Mystery commented, watching the older woman walk away.

"That she is," the Doctor agreed, shaking his head. "That she is. Anyway. To business." He rubbed his hands together eagerly, like a child about to open a present on Christmas. "Let's get going." He plunged forward into the wreckage, jumping over a fallen beam and soon disappearing. Clara and Mystery hurried to follow, although at a more dignified pace.

After picking their way through what Clara guessed must have been the main sanctuary, they found the Doctor kneeling just behind a ruined wall, examining a dark hole in the floor. "Oh, hello!" he said cheerfully, peering into the blackness below. "Caught up at last, have you?" Mystery chose to ignore this.

"What've you found?"

"A hole in the floor," he replied, as though that should have been obvious. Clara rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I can see that for myself, thanks," she said impatiently. "What else?"

"Nothing, really." Seeing Clara open her mouth to say something further, no doubt another tart remark, he continued hastily, " _But,_ it could give us access to the lower level. Which would be good. Very good, in fact."

"But Doctor," Mystery said cautiously, "if it's collapsed this much already, what's to stop it from collapsing even further? While we're in it?"

The Doctor considered this. "Well, nothing, really," he answered at last. "But someone's got to. And we're here. May as well." And with no chance for any more dissension, he jumped down into the darkness.

"Doctor!" Mystery cried, staring into the hole for some sight of him, unharmed. She saw only darkness.

"It's alright," he called, his voice echoing from below. "I'm alright. It's a long drop, but there's some kind of padding..." They heard the familiar sonic noise and saw a pinpoint of green light. "Looks like robes of some kind. I'll pile on some more. You'll be fine. Come on!"

Mystery rubbed her eyes. "How can he do that?" she said despairingly to Clara. "Keep throwing himself into things with no idea what might be there. Doesn't he realize how important he is?"

"That's the Doctor's job, and ours as a companion," Clara replied. "To do things that have to be done when no one else wants to. To brave dangers no one else can. He is important because he throws himself into things like that. He makes every life worthwhile."

Mystery, about to protest again, stopped short. "Every life? You mean he's got more than one?"

"Oh yes. Time Lords don't die, they regenerate. Whenever a human might die, he just gets a new body. Well, more than just a body. New personality, too. But it's still him. Didn't you wonder when he said he was the Eleventh Doctor?"

"Well, I did, a bit," Mystery admitted. "But enough else was going on that it slipped my mind. So he's on his eleventh person?"

"Eleventh regeneration," Clara corrected her. "Regeneration is what allows him to take risks like that. It doesn't matter as much to him as it would to us."

"But we can't regenerate!" Mystery cried, returning to her original complaint. "What have we got going for us, to take those risks ourselves?"

"We've got him," Clara said simply. "What else could we possibly need?" Mystery had no answer to that. "The Doctor needs people, companions, to hold him back, to push him forward, to remind him what he's fighting for. To keep his good nature alive and make sure he doesn't overstep his bounds. To help him. And, more than that, to keep him cheerful, however we can. And part of that is going and taking risks by his side." Mystery nodded, chastised.

"But," Clara continued briskly, "there's no reason to be foolish." With that, she ducked back into the ruined sanctuary. "Captain Magambo," she called. "A torch, if you could." Minutes later, Clara returned carrying three large torches. She handed one to Mystery and gestured to the hole. "After you," she said brightly. Mystery sighed, but took the torch, turned to the hole, and jumped.

The Doctor had been correct. It was a long fall, but her landing was quite cushy, although she sent up a cloud of dust when she hit the pile of cloth. Coughing, she fumbled to turn on her torch. Looking up, she could see a small circle of light above, much higher than a church basement ought to be. "What sort of a place is this?" she muttered.

"Mystery?" Clara called from above. "I'm coming down now."

"Go ahead," Mystery replied, moving out of the way. Moments later, Clara plummeted to land with a thump before her, raising another dust cloud. She switched on her torch, coughing as well and waving her hand in front of her face.

"It's awfully far down, isn't it?" she said once the air had cleared. "Farther than just a basement." Mystery nodded, then realized Clara couldn't see her.

"Yes," she said hastily. "I was just thinking that myself." She cast the beam from her torch around her, revealing a small stone corridor of sorts, covered in dust. Clara copied her.

"Where do you suppose we are?" she said quietly. "Some sort of crypt?"

"Eurgh," Mystery said in disgust. "I hope not. Where'd the Doctor get to? Maybe he knows."

"An excellent question, that," Clara replied. "Doctor!" she called, flashing her torch down the corridor. "Doctor, where are you?"

And suddenly he was there. "Yes, hello, I'm here," he said cheerfully from just behind Clara. "It's rather far down, isn't it?"

"Doctor!" Mystery cried, startled. "Warn a person, can't you?" She shone her light just below his face so they could see each other.

"Yes," said Clara, surprised as well, "do be careful. With that chin, you could put someone's eye out."

"Oh, yes, very clever," he answered, scowling at her. "Really witty. Perhaps I should just leave you here in the dark and not tell you what I've found out. See how you like it."

"Found something out, have you?" Clara asked, handing him the remaining torch. "Go on, then. You never miss an opportunity to show off." He merely grinned and led the way down the hall.

"So, as it turns out, we weren't the first ones in here," he called over his shoulder. "It opens up into a larger chamber farther on, and that's already been excavated. A construction team's been through."

"So there won't be anything left for us to find," said Mystery, disappointed.

"No, I didn't say that," he said, beaming back at them. "Despite being often too curious for their own good, humans have a surprising lack of attention to detail. Nothing personal," he added, seeing the looks from the two women. "You don't even know that you're human!" he said to Mystery's glare. Her expression changed from one of anger to confusion.

"Of course I'm human!" she exclaimed. "What else could I be? I look human!"

"Well, that doesn't mean anything, really. You also look Slitheen. Or Time Lord, for that matter. In any case," he added hastily, seeing her start to ask further questions, "there's something in that chamber that is worth a little more investigation."

"What is it?" Clara asked. He winked at her.

"Wait and see."

Clara sighed. "You'd think I'd learn," she said to Mystery. "He never gives away anything until the very last minute."

They followed the taller man further into the darkness, the way lit only by torchlight. After walking for several minutes, they rounded a corner and could see faint daylight at the end of another very long hall. The farther they walked, the brighter it got until they reached the end of the hall. Ducking through what used to be a rather grand archway but was now mostly collapsed, they arrived in what was indeed the remains of another chamber. Looking around, Mystery saw the ruined foundation and walls of the upper floor - they were indeed still a good way underground. The ground was covered in dust, broken beams and shattered furniture. Several destroyed objects were recognizable as religious: a wooden cross, now bent out of shape, several large and very dusty tapestries, and numerous shattered statues. It was to one such statue that the Doctor now led them.

"Take a look at this," he said, picking up a grey stone arm. "Look at all familiar?" Mystery didn't bother to answer. Clara, however, shrugged.

"A bit of stone statue? Could be anything."

"Ah," he said, holding up a finger, "but it isn't just _anything_ , like you said, oh no." He tossed the arm at Mystery, who only just managed to catch it, and went digging in the rubble once more. As Mystery and Clara watched in confusion, he began throwing back more and more stone pieces: another arm, what looked like the bottom of a dress, a face, until he at last, with a mighty heave, yanked out half of a massive stone wing. All were clearly part of the same statue. "There," he said, thumping the wing down next to the rest and looking terribly pleased with himself. "Now what do you think?"

Clara picked up the stone face and examined it. It was clearly very old, its features worn away in places. Its eyes were blank, like any statue, and it seemed almost angry, as though it had lost something at the very last moment. "If I didn't know any better," she said, almost laughing, "I'd almost say it was a weeping angel. But what would one weeping angel be doing in some church basement?"

"A good question," he said, settling down on the remains of a wooden chair, only to have it break underneath him. He fell to the ground in a clatter of wood on stone, but sat there, unperturbed, as Clara and Mystery cried out. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," he said, straightening his bow tie and brushing off their attempts to get him back to his feet. "Don't fuss. Like a couple of mother hens, you are. I will remind you I am hundreds and hundreds of years older than the two of you combined. I should be mothering you!"

"Yes, but we don't need it. You do," Mystery said mischievously, earning an approving smile from Clara and a scowl from the Doctor.

"I do not!" he said, sitting in the dust on the floor. "I am perfectly fine," he said, ignoring the glance of mingled frustration and amusement that passed between his two companions. "So, about that angel-"

"Er, Doctor, before you continue," interrupted Mystery cautiously, "what exactly is a weeping angel?"

The Doctor turned and looked at her gravely. "Creatures from another world," he answered. Mystery looked at him in confusion.

"But that's just a broken statue," she pointed out. "Are we running from statues now?"

"They're only statues when you see them."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked impatiently.

"Lonely Assassins, they used to be called," he replied. "No one quite knows where they came from, but they're as old as the universe, or very nearly, and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defense system ever evolved. They're quantum locked."

"Quantum-locked?"

"They don't exist when they're being observed," he explained. "The moment they are seen by any other living creature, they freeze into rock. No choice, it's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone." He shrugged. "'Course, a stone can't kill you either, but then you turn your head away. Then you blink, and oh yes it can!"

Mystery glanced over at the face Clara was still holding. "That bit of stone could kill us?"

The Doctor nodded. "That's why they usually cover their eyes. They're not weeping, they can't risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen. Loneliest creatures in the Universe."

"But that one's broken," she said uncertainly. "It's dead. Right?" The Doctor nodded.

"It must have smashed when the building came down. Broke it to bits, and that's tough to do. But Clara's question was a good one: why only one angel? There aren't enough pieces for two. And look at it," he said, taking the stone head from Clara. "See how it's worn down? This angel was starving. They feed off time energy, see, and when they can't get any, when they're quantum-locked, they start to wear away. This one's clearly been here a long time."

"But why?" Clara asked. "Something had to keep it here, but what?"

"Well," the Doctor said, scratching his head. "Sometimes angels get trapped in mirrors, anything where they get caught in their own reflection."

"But there's no broken glass here," Mystery pointed out, looking around them. "So no mirror. What else?"

"Each other," he said. "They're called Lonely Assassins for a reason. They can't ever look at each other. If they do..." he shrugged. "They're stuck forever. It's almost sad, really. So, the question is," he said slowly, looking at each woman in turn, "where's the other one?"

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all! So the enemy is revealed. Throwback to Blink, yes? I know it's a Ten speech, but the odd thing is, I can totally see Eleven saying it too. Just differently, of course. In his own style. Anyway. Should be fun, eh? A bit of a mystery going on, new things to find out, fun fun fun. I'm very excited for the rest of this 'episode.' Let me know what you think! I'll post the quotes from the last chapter in my profile sometime tomorrow, most likely, if anyone cares to go look. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading, and please leave a review!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	13. Starving Angels

"Welcome, welcome! So very glad you could come!"

Clara, Mystery, and the Doctor were ushered into the quaint country church by a short, smiling man in a priest's white robes. He was a small, elderly, rather rotund man with wispy grey hair and a deep, cheerful voice that seemed to exude a love of life. He guided them through the plain front room into a small office. It was sparsely furnished, containing only a desk, three chairs, and a filing cabinet. A heavy, well-worn Bible sat on the desk, as well as a large computer and a phone, seemingly out of place in the much older-looking surroundings.

"Please, have a seat," he said, taking his own chair behind the desk. "I'm sorry there isn't more room, we don't often get many visitors of this sort. I'm Father Michael." Clara and Mystery sat down. The Doctor elected to remain standing.

"This is Clara, this one's Mystery, and I'm John Smith. I gather you heard we were coming?" he asked. They had agreed beforehand that the less people knew, the less chance there was of the renegade angel discovering their presence.

"I did, yes" Father Michael said, settling into his chair and folding his hands on his stomach. "Mystery is a rather unusual name for a young girl."

Mystery shrugged. "It's an accurate description," she said with a hint of grim humor.

"She's had amnesia," Clara explained. "Doesn't know who she is anymore. We're taking her along in hopes that she might remember some things."

Father Michael's pleasant expression turned from one of gentle contentment to the deepest sympathy. "Oh, you poor dear, how terribly dreadful! May God help you. I shall remember you in my prayers tonight," he promised. Mystery squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "So what brings you all to our humble church?"

"Clara and I are traveling on our honeymoon," the Doctor said, Clara nodding pleasantly. "Mystery is a neighbor of ours. We think she grew up somewhere near here, and thought we'd bring her along to see what she might remember."

"How very kind of you!" the old priest exclaimed. "Then we shall have to do a tour, perhaps? There isn't much to see, but-"

"Thank you," inserted Clara smoothly. "We'd love to look around a bit."

"Splendid," he said, standing up and clapping his hands together. "If you'll follow me, then?" He led them out of the office and down a small hallway, which had several other small rooms branching off it. The Doctor stayed by Father Michael's side, with Clara and Mystery walking behind.

"We heard a rumor the other day that you might have gotten some new artwork recently?" he asked casually. "From the church across town that collapsed?"

"Oh yes," said the priest, his kindly face grave. "Terrible, that was. Very fortunate no one was hurt. We are all very blessed." The Doctor nodded, trying to look suitably pious. "They weren't able to save much, you know. So much damage. But we did get a few things. Just for storage, of course."

"Of course," the Doctor echoed, somewhat impatiently. "What sort of things?"

"Oh, let me think now," he said, pausing as he tried to remember. Clara and Mystery stopped hurriedly to avoid running into the older man. "We had a rather fine painting of the birth of our Saviour, somewhat dusty. It's being restored now. Several candlesticks...oh, and a large stone statue of an angel of the Lord." His three guests exchanged excited looks. "Terribly old," he continued, oblivious. "Very worn away, I really can't think how it wasn't kept in better shape-"

"This statue," Clara interrupted. "May we see it?"

The priest smiled at her, looking faintly bemused. "Of course, my dear, but I can't think it'd be very intriguing to a young lady like yourself. Why the interest?"

"Erm...It's...part of my studies," Clara invented wildly. "I'm researching religious history and writing a paper on various...angel statues..." she trailed off awkwardly, but Father Michael was delighted.

"Religious history! Wonderful, dear, wonderful! God does indeed provide for the faith of the younger generations!" Beaming at her, he led the way down the hall again. The Doctor sidled over to Clara.

"Part of your studies?" he whispered. Clara made a face.

"It was all I could think of!" she hissed back. "You make excuses next time, if you're so clever!" She glanced over at Mystery, who had a decidedly innocent smile plastered across her face. "Oh, hush, you," she huffed. Sticking her nose in the air, she marched off down the hall. The Doctor draped an arm around Mystery's shoulders. When she looked up, he said nothing, merely winked. She grinned and winked back.

"Right this way please, Mr. Smith," the priest called. "The statue is right through here. We've had it on display for at least a day now, and it is greatly loved by all of our little flock." He ushered them through a set of wooden double doors and into the sanctuary. It was a small room, as such rooms go, but it was clean and well kept. Several large stained glass windows stood on either end of the room, filling the room with multicolored light. Rows of pews faced a simple altar at the very front of the room. Just to the right of this altar stood a large stone statue of an angel, eyes wide open, hands outstretched. The Doctor started to race towards it, then turned back. He halted by Mystery.

"Don't look away, whatever you do," he whispered in her ear before turning to the priest. "Thank you, Father," he said respectfully. "Now, if you could leave us? My wife works best undisturbed." He lightly kicked Clara in the shin, who let out a little gasp.

"Yes! Solitude is best for studying," she said hastily, trying to look composed. "Except for these two. I'm used to them. They don't bother me anymore."

"Thanks," the Doctor said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," she answered, without looking at him. "If you wouldn't mind, Father?"

"Oh, of course," said the priest quickly. He had been watching this exchange with something akin to fascination. "Yes. Whatever you need. Far be it from me to hinder the education of our precious youth." He took Clara's hand and kissed it, then Mystery's. "I will pray for the return of your memories, my dear," he said fervently, clasping her hand.

"Er, thank you," Mystery said awkwardly, eyes still on the angel, as Father Michael turned and walked sedately out of the room.

"No kiss for me, I suppose," the Doctor said mournfully, watching him go. Clara bumped his shoulder. "Yes, yes, alright, let's go." He turned and dashed over to the statue, the others not far behind. "Don't look away, and don't look it in the eyes," he said hurriedly, pulling out the screwdriver and examining the angel's well-worn face.

"Why not?" Mystery asked, looking determinedly at the stone forehead before her.

"Why not what?" asked the Doctor absently, still scanning.

"Why not look it in the eyes?"

"It's dangerous," he answered simply. "Anything that assumes the form of an angel becomes an angel, anything that has an image of an angel can create an angel. Mirrors, TV screens, anything. And that includes your retinas."

" _What?"_

He straightened up and grabbed her shoulders. "Basic biology," he said, speaking very quickly. "The light reflecting off anything you see gets projected onto the back of your eye, called your retina, and that creates an image. That image then travels down your optic nerve. When you look an angel in the eyes, it creates a picture in your brain. And any image of an angel creates an angel. Look at it too long and you've got a baby angel in your head. And trust me," he said, looking her right in the eyes, "you don't want that."

"What happens then?" Clara asked, watching the angel closely. "If it gets in your brain, what then?"

"It grows," the Doctor answered, releasing Mystery and turning back to the stone creature before them. "Grows inside your mind. It poisons it: makes you think about your own death, makes you think you're turning to stone. You get paranoid. You can't sleep. You can't live a normal life. And once it's grown, it escapes."

"And once it escapes?" Mystery asked, her voice low.

"You die." He shrugged. "That's all. There's nothing to be done." There was a pause, while the two women tried to digest this. Then Clara spoke up.

"Doctor, if there's an angel growing in your brain, you get paranoid, right? Hallucinations. Abnormal living. Depression." She turned to Mystery. "Does that sound at all familiar to you?" Mystery looked confused for a moment, then her eyes widened.

"The workers," she breathed. "The construction workers. That's exactly what they reported. Maybe those three were the one that rescued this angel. It makes sense!" she said, getting excited. "Who's to say they never looked it in the eyes? Of course!"

"We'll have to go talk to them," added the Doctor. "Just to be sure, but I think in general you may be correct. Oh, well done, Clara!" he exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. "Well done indeed."

"Thank you, Doctor," she said primly, though she was smiling too. "Now, the next question is: why is this one still here?"

Mystery looked at her. "What do you mean, still here?" she asked. The Doctor, however, caught her meaning immediately.

"She means still here, in this church, in this room, in this position," he explained. "If it's been here more than a day, there's no doubt it's been left unsupervised - what now?" he broke off irritably. Mystery had gasped aloud.

"It's been here for more than a day...I don't suppose...what day is it?" she asked suddenly. The other two stared. "What day?" she insisted.

"Monday," Clara said warily. "One of the guards told me."

"Monday," Mystery repeated. "So yesterday was Sunday...oh, don't you see? It's been here, in front of the pews, for a whole day. A _Sunday._ And what's to stop someone who's bored in church to look at this new statue? Maybe look it in the eyes?"

"Ooohhh," the Doctor said slowly, catching her point. "Oh, that is bad. It's spreading. Infecting everyone. Very bad. Yes."

"But Doctor," Clara inserted, "why? Why bother? It's a weeping angel, it can do a lot worse than that. Why stay here, as it is?"

"Look at it," the Doctor said, running a hand over the stone head. "See how worn down it is? It isn't age, like the priest thinks. It's starving. Just like the other one. They've been trapped there for ages, with no time energy to feed on. I don't think it can move. It's forced to stay stone for now, creating other angels in the hope that maybe one will grow up and escape to help it before it dies."

"It's creating an army," Mystery said, her eyes wide. "This whole town, full of baby angels. But how many?"

The Doctor looked at her, almost excited. "That, my dear," he said, rubbing his hands together, "is the million dollar question."

* * *

 **A.N: Chapter thirteen! Wow oh wow. This is officially my longest story, not in chapters, but definitely in words. Hope you all are enjoying it! Nasty weeping angels. Tsk. But maybe they do that to humans all the time. Maybe depression isn't a chemical imbalance, it's because you've got a weeping angel growing in your head...**

 **Anyway, this will probably be the last chapter I'll post on this for a few weeks, because I have successfully ascended to the second round of the fanfiction competition this was originally for, and now must write another story. So look for that hopefully coming soon! That one will be much shorter, I think, more one adventure than a whole series like this one, and it will feature the Tenth Doctor and Donna, as well as some Autons. So! Should be fun. Stay alert for that, I'd love to see what you all think!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	14. Belief

"I see," said Captain Magambo, nodding. "So you're telling me this statue is going to kill our entire town?"

She and the Doctor stood around the weeping angel, along with Clara, Mystery, and Father Michael. The angel was blindfolded, its eyes covered by a long linen altar cloth, much to the priest's displeasure. They had just finished explaining to the U.N.I.T. Captain what they had discovered. The Doctor flushed a bit.

"When you put it like that, it seems a bit ridiculous," he admitted, "but yes. Essentially, yes."

"Ridiculous?" huffed the priest. "We're a bit beyond ridiculous, Mr. Smith! A statue, of an angel of the Lord, no less, with malicious intent? Impossible. Stone statues cannot do harm!"

"Oh, nothing is ever truly impossible," said the Doctor airily. "Just a bit unlikely. Besides," he added, more seriously, "these aren't mere statues, you'll recall, but some of the deadliest creatures in the universe. You'd do well to take them seriously."

"Mr. Smith," said Father Michael, raising himself up to his full height, which barely reached the Doctor's chin, "from an early age I have been a student of the Bible, and a dedicated servant and child of the Heavenly Father. I have spent a lifetime learning His will. God would never have created such a thing. This is merely a statue and nothing more. I can assure you such creatures cannot exist. "

"Can you?" the Doctor asked, fixing the indignant priest with a hard stare. "You know, it's impossible to prove that something doesn't exist. See, the best way to prove something wrong is to find a counterexample. To tell me something doesn't exist, well, that's simple. I only have to show you that thing and, if you're smart, you won't deny it. But to say that it does, well..." He shrugged. "That's a bit trickier. What sort of counterexample can you do? How can you prove, with no doubt whatsoever, that something is not real?" The priest was silent. "You can't," the Doctor said simply. "That is one thing I will say is impossible."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Father, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Clara quoted. The Doctor beamed at her.

"Nice one," Mystery whispered. Clara grinned.

"I always wanted to be a teacher," she said quietly.

"So then, Doctor," Magambo said, turning towards the Time Lord and leaving the red-faced priest fuming, "what do you recommend?"

"Get it out," the Doctor said. "That first. Then destroy it. Smash it apart, whatever you've got. Just make sure nobody can look at it."

The Captain gave a sharp salute, then turned away, barking orders into her walkie-talkie. The Doctor turned back to the angel, checking that the altar cloth was wrapped tightly around its blank eyes. Mystery was running a hand over the angel's damaged wings, examining the wear and tear. Clara, watching them, was struck by a horrible thought.

"Father Michael," she said hesitantly, "did you ever look the angel in the eyes?"

The priest looked at her, his eyes mournful. "Ah, my dear girl," he said sorrowfully. "Religious history, and you still persist in believing such stories? I had so hoped...Remember, my child," he said, clasping her hand. "Tales like these are lies put forth by the devil to drag you from the true path."

"Please, sir," Clara said, pulling her hand away. "Just answer the question."

"I may have," he said primly. "I do not know. It is of little importance. Five."

Clara stared. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, I don't know," the portly priest answered impatiently. "Is this nonsense impairing your hearing as well?"

"You said 'five'," she said, brushing off the man's sudden rudeness. "You said the number five. Why?"

"I did not," he replied warily, obviously unsure of her intentions.

"You did," she persisted. "You said 'five.' And now you don't remember…Doctor?" she called, ignoring Father Michael's protestations.

"I heard," the Doctor said, at her side instantly. Mystery ambled over to join them, curious. "Father, when did you first see this angel?"

"Late Saturday evening," he said cautiously, unsettled. "When the workers brought it in. They left a dreadful mess on the carpets. Dust and mud and all-"

"Close your eyes," the Doctor ordered, cutting off his ramble.

"What? But-"

"Close them. Now!" The startled old man snapped his eyes shut. "Don't open them again, not if you want to live."

"Do as he says," Clara added fiercely. "He knows what he's doing."

"Five," muttered the Doctor, rubbing his eyes. "It's happening again. Five minutes...Father, I'm sorry," he said, turning age-old eyes on the frightened man. "I'm so very sorry, but you're about to die."

"Poppycock!" the priest cried, but his face turned pale. "I am in perfect health. Nothing the matter at all. Four."

"Four," Mystery repeated, glancing worriedly at the Doctor. "Doctor, he's counting down."

"I most certainly am not!" Father Michael huffed indignantly, opening his eyes to glare at the Doctor. "I am perfectly fine, and I am not counting! Have you all gone mad?"

"Keep your eyes closed!" the Doctor snapped. "Every time you open your eyes, even for a second, is time counting down. It's your life, and a human life is precious. Don't throw it away." Reluctantly, the priest closed his eyes once more.

"Doctor, what does it mean?" Clara demanded, watching intently as the Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and began to scan the priest, who protested vociferously and tried to bat the Time Lord's hand away.

"His time is running out," the Doctor said gravely, deftly avoiding the man's flailing hands. "Remember? A growing weeping angel forces you to count down the minutes you've got left to live. The minutes you've got until it destroys you. Four minutes."

"You are mad," the poor man said wonderingly, crossing himself. "Three minutes to live? Completely mad."

"Three minutes," Clara said sharply, glancing at her watch. "He only said three. Three more minutes."

"I don't believe it!" Father Michael cried, backing away. "I refuse to believe it. It's unnatural!" His eyes had popped open once more and he stared wide-eyed at the trio before them.

"If you don't believe it, then why are you worried?" the Doctor asked softly. The priest blanched and snapped his eyes shut. "Mystery," he continued softly, "please fetch Captain Magambo. Tell her that our friend here needs to be taken away, blindfolded, and restrained, for his own safety."

"Blindfolded? Restrained? You dare-" sputtered the indignant man. The Doctor turned on him.

"If you open your eyes, for less than three minutes, a fully grown weeping angel will explode out of your mind and blast your body apart into millions of pieces," he said, eyes smoldering. "Then it will go around zapping innocent people into the past. Entire lives, wiped out in an instant. Lived out in the past." He bent down, his face close enough to the shorter man's that the priest flinched away. "Is that really what you want?" Father Michael said nothing, only shook his head. The Doctor stood up, his expression unreadable. "I didn't think so."

Captain Magambo strode into the room, followed by Mystery, Sergeant Rathley, and two other U.N.I.T. soldiers. "Doctor," she said, snapping into a sharp salute.

"Oh, stop it," he moaned, waving her off. "I've told you time and again, I don't need a salute!" Magambo ignored this.

"Doctor, Sergeant Rathley and his men are here to take care of the angel," she said briskly. "Mystery here tells me you have other business as well."

"This man here," the Doctor said, pointing at the cowering priest. "He needs to be taken care of. If you could-"

"I have been informed of the specifics," she interjected, cutting the Doctor off mid-sentence. He gave her an injured look.

"I don't like being interrupted," he said frostily. "Usually what I have to say is very important. Could mean life and death." He bumped Clara with his shoulder. "Tell her, Clara."

"Oh yes," she said hastily. "Always vital information. Sometimes. Now and then. You really have to learn to sift through what he says to find the good stuff," she explained to the amusement of the U.N.I.T. soldiers.

"Not helpful," muttered the Doctor. She flashed him a saucy grin.

"With U.N.I.T., everything could mean life and death," the Captain said, her stare transfixing the Doctor, voice hard as stone. "I have no time for useless or redundant information, Doctor, nor do I have time for those who wish to complain about how I run things. Whine on your own time, Doctor, not on mine." Without waiting for an answer, she turned on the ball of her foot and strode over to Father Michael. "We will take care of him for you, Doctor, for as long as you need. But that had best be no longer than is absolutely necessary. Men, the angel. Move it out." She seized the protesting priest's arm and pulled him out of the sanctuary. The burly soldiers seized the statue and hefted it out of the room after her, grunting with the strain.

"Whatever you do, make sure he can't open his eyes," the Doctor said to the smaller woman's retreating back. She made no answer, only raised a hand to show she understood. "And don't hurt him!" he called. He grinned. "What a woman," he said to himself. Clara elbowed him and he winked. "Say what you will, but you cannot deny she's impressive. Doesn't miss a trick."

"I heard that," Magambo called over her shoulder. The Time Lord shook his head, grinning ruefully.

The wooden double doors shut with a bang that echoed around the empty hall. The Doctor sank down onto the front pew, running his hands through his hair. Mystery and Clara found places beside him. The three sat in silence for a while before Mystery spoke up.

"Father Michael...he was so very kind when we first came...What happened? How can a person change so quickly?"

"The weeping angel?" Clara guessed. "The baby one, in his head? Maybe it felt threatened and made him try to protect it."

"Very possibly," the Doctor allowed, "but there's more to it than that."

"Like what?" Mystery asked curiously.

"Human beings like to believe in things," the Doctor said heavily, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "Gods, ideals, each other. You've always needed something to worship, to idolize. Not just humans, either. When that something falls short of what you think it should be..." He shook his head. "That's the thing about belief. It's the only thing that's as hard to destroy, but once it is, it leaves a gaping hole in a person's soul."

"So he really believed in this that much? To be so unhinged?" Mystery asked.

"Father Michael dedicated himself to the church when he was seven, officially at nineteen. He's been living for only this for almost sixty years. And entire lifetime dedicated to building on one foundation. He was proud. Proud of what he had done, proud of what he saw in himself. And now he's being forced to acknowledge that the purpose of his life is not the all-encompassing thing he imagined it to be. He's lashing out, as humans do. Something confuses you, makes you think, makes you question, you destroy it. Human nature." He chuckled a bit, staring down at his joined hands.

Mystery, looking at him, saw that his mask of cheerfulness was gone, replaced with an incredible pain and sorrow, lurking just beneath the surface. The face of an old man who had been carrying a burden for far too long.

"Is he wrong, then?" Clara asked, looking sideways through her hair at the Time Lord beside her. "About all of this, is he wrong?"

"I'm not human, Clara," he replied quietly. "There are some things I will never know. You have to figure that out on your own."

There was a pause, and then Mystery spoke again.

"Doctor...how do you know so much about it? Belief, and losing it?"

Silence. Just when she thought she wasn't going to get an answer, the Doctor simply said, "Observation."

"Observation," Mystery repeated softly, not believing a bit.

"Of course," he said, his cheery mask back in place. "Hang around with humans for a few hundred years, you're bound to pick something up, eh? Now come on," he said, leaping to his feet and pulling the other two up before they could protest. "Places to go, people to see!" He dashed towards the door, leaving the two bemused women behind.

"Observation?" Mystery said skeptically. Clara smiled and shook her head.

"I think we both know that's not true. But that's how he is. He talks and talks but never really says anything."

Mystery nodded, mulling it over. "Well then," she said decisively. "I think we'll have to change that." Clara beamed down at her and tucked an arm around the younger woman's shoulder. Then, together, they followed the Doctor to the door.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, my dears! I have returned! Uncivil War is complete, turned in, and awaiting results, and I am tremendously proud of it, so yay! That also means I get to come back to this. I did miss 11 so. Anyway, this turned out to be much deeper than planned. It's late and I'm tired. I'm not trying to offend anyone in any way. I'm very deeply religious myself, and I won't say these are my views. But anyway! Thank you for reading and not forgetting about me! Much love!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: I had some rather awkward line breaks in here before, sorry about that. Don't try to do things on an iPad. I've fixed it now and added a bit more, if you're confused :)**


	15. Tea with Jocelyn

"Doctor, you're quite sure this is alright?"

They stood in front of a cozy little home at the edge of Ahren, the Doctor ready to knock on the door. "Of course it's alright, why shouldn't it be?" he asked Mystery.

"I don't know," she said, rather uncomfortably. "I hate to barge in on someone's home like this. Unannounced. Pretending to be officials. It feels dishonest."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather just appear with no explanation and have no idea why?" Mystery blushed. Clara hit the Doctor's shoulder. "Ow!" he cried. "What was that for?"

"Don't poke fun," Clara told him, not unkindly. "It's not nice." He huffed and made a face at her.

"Fine," he said, turning back to Mystery. "We're with the police, alright, following up on a confidential tip. Completely true. We're helping them out. I doubt anyone will complain once we find this weeping angel and stop it doing any damage, alright? This is where the statue was taken, so this is where we've got to go. Any further problems?" There were none. "Right then." Raising the heavy brass knocker, the Doctor knocked twice on the wooden door.

"Yes, alright, just a minute!" someone called from inside. Moments later, a young woman opened the door, balancing a toddler on her hip. She looked tired and frazzled, like someone who hadn't slept properly in several days. "Can I help you?" she asked cautiously, looking at the oddly-dressed Doctor.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor, and these are Clara and Mystery. We're with the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, looking into the events surrounding that collapsed church. May we come in?" he finished with a smile.

"Er, yes, of course," she said hastily, opening the door wider to let them in. "Sorry it's not cleaner," she added, leading them through a hall covered in toys and loose socks. "Emily here still hasn't learned to clean up after herself," she said, giving the toddler a kiss on the cheek, "and things being how they are, well..." She shrugged. "I'm Jocelyn, by the way. Jocelyn Mathers."

The trio chorused a greeting as Jocelyn led them into a small but cozy living room. "Feel free to have a seat," she said politely, shoving aside some magazines, toys, and laundry to leave space on their couch. "I'll just make tea, shall I?" Setting young Emily down on the floor, she shoved through a small side door and out of sight.

"Well," said the Doctor, beaming. "Isn't this nice!" He sat himself down on the now-clear couch and seized a magazine. "Ah! Knitting!" Happily, he pulled out his spectacles and settled in to read.

"Er, Doctor," began Mystery carefully, watching him perusing the patterns with glee, "shouldn't we be asking her some questions?"

"Of course," he said, scooting over to make room on the couch and patting the seat invitingly. "But tea first. This is Britain, after all. Come on. Be polite."

Mystery sighed and went to join him on the battered couch, but Emily beat her to it. The toddler hoisted herself up next to the Doctor and began to grab enthusiastically at the Time Lord's red bow tie. "Oi! Stop it, you!" he cried, scrambling to unhook the girl's grubby hands from his precious neckwear. Mystery laughed and went to help him.

Clara, knowing that everything would be just fine, followed their host into the kitchen. She pushed her way through the door and found herself in a rather dingy kitchen, out-dated, but clearly well-used. Jocelyn was standing over the sink, filling a tea kettle. She jumped as Clara came through the door.

"Need a bit of help?" she asked cheerfully. Jocelyn glanced over, rather surprised.

"Clara, right?" she asked. Clara nodded brightly. "Well, sure, alright. Come on in." Clara stepped further into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding tripping over a fat white cat that wandered through. "That's Max," Jocelyn said, shooing the cat away. "You're awfully polite for an investigator, you know," she said, standing up and reaching for a cupboard. Clara grinned.

"This might all just be an act. I could be probing you for information right now," she said mysteriously. Jocelyn laughed.

"Throw those on a plate, would you?" she asked, sliding a glass platter across the countertop and tossing Clara a package of biscuits. "Sorry it's not fancier, but things have been rough."

"Oh, don't worry," Clara said cheerfully, tearing open the package. "We never expect anything nearly this nice." Jocelyn blushed and smiled down at her teapot. "So, you mentioned things being rather different lately?" Clara asked nonchalantly, glancing at the other woman, who stiffened, then sighed.

"Yes," she said, setting the teapot down on the stove and turning on the heat. "They really have."

"In what way?" Clara probed gently, turning away from her cookies to face Jocelyn.

"It's Joanna, my wife," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Ever since that blasted church collapsed, she hasn't been at all herself. She works in construction, you know," she added, looking up at Clara, who nodded. "The day they started clearing through the rubble, Joanna came home exhausted. I thought it was just the exercise, but it never went away. She's very strong, and normally very healthy," she said earnestly, as though hoping Clara wouldn't think ill of the woman she so clearly loved.

"Did you call a doctor?" Clara asked, busily arranging the biscuits.

"Of course, but they couldn't find a thing wrong," Jocelyn answered. "And things are getting worse and worse. She's angry, all the time. She screams at us, locks herself in her room for days on end. She hardly eats, hardly sleeps. She even hit me once," the poor woman whispered, pulling up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal a nasty purple bruise. Clara could see at least two distinct fingerprints.

"Oh Jocelyn..." Clara said softly, tearing her eyes away from the mark to look the poor woman in the face. "I'm so sorry."

Jocelyn shook her head, rolling down her sleeve. "It's not your fault," she said quietly. "Joanna...wasn't herself. I keep hoping she'll get better, but there's no sign of any progress, and she's scaring Emily to bits."

"Has there been anything else?" Clara asked. "Has she been, say, counting?"

"Counting?" Jocelyn repeated, clearly baffled. "No, not that I know of. Why?"

"Never mind," said Clara quickly. "Just an idea."

Jocelyn stared at her for a bit more, then shook her head, as though shaking off Clara's oddness. "Clara, I trust you. I don't know exactly why, but somehow I feel like if there's anyone in this world who can fix this mess, it's you." The teakettle began to whistle and steam on the stove. Jocelyn ignored it, her eyes boring into Clara's. "Please. Can you help her?"

Clara looked away. "Maybe I'd better ask the Doctor about this…" she said evasively, but Jocelyn would not take no for an answer.

"Please," the desperate woman said again. "I've met too many like him. Barging into your house, not a care for the troubles you might have."

"Oh, but he's not like that at all!" Clara exclaimed. "You've just got to get to know him a bit-"

"I'm sure he's a wonderful man, Clara, but no. My wife is upstairs. She is seriously ill. I've been locked out of my own bedroom for days. We haven't got time for me to get to know anyone." Clara wavered, glancing back at the door. "At least look at her," Jocelyn pleaded. "That's all I ask."

Clara shook her head. "You really need the Doctor, not me." She turned around and headed for the door, ignoring Jocelyn's protests.

She shoved open the door and poked her head into the living room. Mystery was crouched on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with little Emily. The Doctor was sitting contentedly on the couch, his bowtie slightly rumpled, deep in his knitting magazine. Clara stopped. They both looked so happy, she was loath to disturb them. She smiled slightly.

Well, what do I need him for, really? she thought to herself. All we're trying to do is see if she's got an angel in her. I'm sure I can do that on my own. Let him be. She pulled the door closed and turned back to Jocelyn.

"Change of plans," she said brightly. "Where is she?"

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all! I know this is kind of a rubbish ending for a chapter, and for the filleryness, but it turned out to be longer than expected (again, you'd think I'd learn) so I'm saving the next bit for a new chapter. Can't promise when it'll be up, since I am leaving for New York (!) on Monday and probably won't be doing much writing! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this, and stay tuned for things to come! I won't say much, but I think I can safely promise some feels :) Until next time!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	16. The Angels Arrive

The Doctor glanced up from behind his magazine to see Clara disappear from the kitchen doorway.

"You heard?" he said to Mystery as soon as the door was shut. Mystery had already stopped her game and was watching him closely.

"Of course I heard," she replied, getting to her feet and setting little Emily down on the couch. "They weren't exactly quiet about it."

"So what do you make of it?" he asked, setting aside the knitting patterns and straightening his bow tie.

" _Me?"_

"Yes you," the Doctor replied, meeting her astonished look calmly. "You're clever and you notice things. So tell me what you think."

"Oh," Mystery said, flustered and flattered. "Well, obviously this Joanna isn't acting at all herself. Cruel, reclusive, violent. Not typical behavior. So if it is an angel," she said, starting to pace around the tiny living room, "which it probably is, it's having very different effects on her than on Father Michael. So the question is why."

"Good, good," said the Doctor from the couch. "Asking the right questions, very important."

"Glad you think so," she shot back. "Don't suppose you could answer that, could you?"

An odd, terrible laughter echoed from above. Mystery jumped and looked at the Doctor, who appeared not to have noticed a thing.

"Well, I might have a few ideas," he said, leaping to his feet and whirling around to face her. "So: Father Michael lived an entire life of religion, of beating down human desires and impulses, yes? Self-control like that, pounded in so deep, becomes a habit, and the force of habit, Mystery, is a powerful force indeed."

"So if he's used to controlling his emotions, the angel couldn't affect him as much?" she guessed. The Doctor beamed at her.

"I knew you were clever," he said proudly. "And, not only that, if Joanna was one of the first ones to see the angel, it's probably had more time to grow in her."

"But Doctor," Mystery said slowly, eyes widening. "If it's had even more time than Father Michael's...and if she's not counting...it could be fully grown any minute!"

The two stared at each other for a moment, soaking in the implications. Then, suddenly, the silence was broken by Clara's cry of "Doctor!" and, moments later, a muffled explosion from upstairs.

"We've got to get up there, _now,"_ the Doctor yelled, grabbing Mystery's hand and tugging her towards the kitchen door. "CLARA!"

* * *

"Joanna?"

Jocelyn knocked softly on the bedroom door. "Joanna, please. There's someone here to see you. Clara, Clara…"

"Oswald," Clara whispered quickly. "Clara Oswald."

"Oswald," repeated Jocelyn. "She might know some way to fix...this."

They heard nothing but silence for a moment, then footsteps. "Must be a good day," Jocelyn whispered. "Usually she'd have thrown something by now." Clara had to fight down a laugh. _The Doctor's rubbing off on me,_ she thought with a grin. _Suddenly everything's an adventure._

Suddenly the door flew open. "Joanna!" Jocelyn cried in relief, flinging herself into her wife's arms. "Oh, thank God."

"Don't touch me," Joanna said coldly, shoving poor Jocelyn away. She turned to Clara, ignoring her wife's whimpers. "What do you want?"

Clara took a good look at her. She was in every way Jocelyn's opposite: dark brown hair and eyes to Jocelyn's blonde and blue, pale skin against her very tan wife. She was several inches taller than Jocelyn, which meant that she positively towered over Clara. They did have one thing in common, though: both looked thoroughly exhausted. Joanna also looked disheveled: her hair uncombed, clothes rumpled.

"Well, I'm Clara Oswald," she began, but Joanna cut her off.

"Yes, you said that," she barked. "But what do you want?" Her accent was very clearly Scottish.

"To talk to you," Clara said simply. "That's all. Jocelyn says you haven't been acting yourself lately. I might be able to help."

"I'm fine," Joanna answered harshly, and began to shut the door, but Clara stuck her foot in the crack.

"You don't seem fine to me, if you'll pardon my saying so," she said, polite but firm. Joanna reappeared in the doorway and glared at her. "Alright," said Clara, raising an eyebrow. "You're fine? Prove it. Let me in, have a conversation, show me you're fine. That's all I ask. Then I'll leave you alone."

Joanna stiffened, but opened the door to admit her. "Don't expect to stay long," she said grimly.

The room was dark and filthy. Clara could see that it had once been a very nice bedroom, but had gone far too long without care, much like Joanna herself. The bed was unmade, dirty dishes filled the room. The curtains were drawn tight against the sunlight, and the room was lit only by a single table lamp. The carpet was soiled and even torn in places, as though a wild animal had come through and clawed it to bits. Joanna ushered them in, clicking the lock behind them.

Clara heard Jocelyn give a muffled gasp upon seeing the condition of the bedroom she had shared not so long ago. Clara stepped further into the murky darkness, pulling out an old wooden chair that looked as though it had recently been shoved under the door handle and sitting down. Joanna flopped onto the bed, while Jocelyn hovered in the doorway.

"So Joanna, you work in construction, is that right?"

Joanna sighed. "It's like a blinking interrogation," she said irritably. But at a sharp look from Jocelyn, she said, "Yeah, I do. Or at least, I did. I don't know anymore.."

"What do you mean?" Clara asked, somewhat surprised. _The Doctor did mention paranoia,_ she thought. _What did I expect?_

"Can't trust 'em, can I?" Joanna answered, raising herself up on one elbow to look at Clara. "Don't know what they might want. Can't trust anyone anymore. I don't hardly know what's going on sometimes. It's like I've been drugged," she said, a crazed glint in her dark eyes. "She's doing it," the poor woman cried, pointing at her cowering wife. "She's drugging me! It's in the food, in the water, maybe the air…" Her words devolved into wild, maniacal laughter.

"Oh God, not this," said Jocelyn softly, tears streaming down her face. "Joanna, how can you say that? I would never-"

"Jocelyn, it won't do any good," Clara said, not taking her eyes off the hysterical woman before her. "I think she's beyond hearing. Just...just leave us alone, alright? Let me see what I can do." Jocelyn looked as though she wanted to protest, but simply nodded and slipped out the door.

Joanna calmed down almost immediately, watching her wife go with an almost feral gaze. Clara tried again.

"So you helped move an angel statue recently?" she asked calmly, as though nothing had happened.

"What's it to you?" Joanna snarled. Clara simply waited. At last, Joanna said, "Yeah, I did. Heavy, that thing was. And weird eyes. Just blank, like they could see everything without seeing anything. Scary, but pretty, you know? I couldn't keep my eyes off it."

Clara felt her heart sink. "Couldn't keep your eyes off it," she repeated. "And I suppose that's when you started feeling odd?"

Joanna stared at her suspiciously. "How could you know that?" she asked, her voice guarded. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Lucky guess?" Clara asked weakly, but Joanna was off again.

"Who are you, anyway? A spy? Some kind of cop? I didn't do anything," she said, almost panicked. "I've done nothing wrong, you can't get me for anything!"

"Joanna, calm down!" Clara said firmly. "I'm not here to take you away. Just to talk to you, alright?"

For a moment, Joanna looked as though she might attack Clara. Then she froze and looked directly at her.

"One," she said, very clearly and distinctly. Clara stared.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh no," Clara said softly. "Oh please no. Joanna, close your eyes!"

"Are you insane?" the angel-ridden woman cried. "So you can, what, arrest me? Kill me? Knock me out? No way!"

"Joanna, just do it!" Clara yelled. "If you want to stay alive, do as I say. Doctor!" she screamed. Even as she watched, Joanna's face contorted in a silent scream of pain. "Oh, Joanna-"

"Stay away," gasped the agonized woman, flinging out a hand to keep Clara at bay. "There's nothing you can do, just stay away! It's breaking free," She threw her head back, her expression one of mixed triumph and despair. "The voice in my head, it's getting out. And it's angry, it's so angry. And hungry. Oh, it just wants to live!" she panted, staring sideways at Clara, who watched, frozen in fascinated horror. "Tell Jocelyn I'm sorry, alright? Promise. Promise me!"

Clara nodded, wiping her eyes. "I promise, Joanna. I promise."

"Right. Good, then," she said, taking a deep breath. Then, as Clara looked on, Joanna Mathers was blasted apart, every molecule in her body exploding. Clara threw her arms over her face, shielding her from the worst of the blast. When she lowered her arms, Joanna was gone, and in her place stood an enormous stone statue with wings expanded, arms outstretched, and teeth bared.

"Doctor!" Clara screamed again, backing away and fumbling for the door. She heard footsteps pounding in the hall, and Mystery calling her name. She grabbed the door handle and turned. Locked.

* * *

"Clara," the Doctor called, rattling the door handle. "Clara, get the door open!"

"I can't!" she cried. "Have to look at the angel!"

"Angel?" Mystery gasped, looking at the Doctor, almost triumphantly. "I was right!"

"Stand away from the door, Clara," the Doctor said. He pulled out his sonic and blasted the doorknob, but quickly stopped, disgusted. "Wood," he muttered. "Doesn't do wood. Who has a wooden knob in this century?"

"The lock still should be metal," Mystery pointed out. "Shouldn't it work anyways?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Too much interference. The older something is, the stronger it is." He glanced at Jocelyn, who was standing in the hallway behind them, face pale. "Once all this is over, get a new house," he told her, and she smiled ever so slightly.

"Doctor, hurry!" Clara yelled from inside the bedroom.

"Right," he said, stowing the sonic away. "Stand back, everyone." And he charged the door. He slammed into the wood will all the strength he could muster, bouncing off to hit the opposite wall and slide to the floor. Jocelyn hurried to his side, but he waved her off. "I'm alright, I'm fine," he told her, rubbing his shoulder.

"The lights! Oh God, it's turning off the lights!" screamed Clara, clearly completely panicked.

"Turning off the lights, how is it doing that?" Mystery asked breathlessly, watching the Doctor slam into the door again.

"It's feeding off the electrical energy," gasped the Doctor, ramming the door once more. "Making the lights flicker so it goes dark, and once it's dark, once she can't see it anymore-"

"Doctor, hurry-" Clara's scream cut off abruptly, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

"Clara?" called the Doctor. No response. "Clara! Clara, answer me!" He began pounding on the door in frustration. "Clara! Clara, please!"

"Doctor, use this," said Jocelyn, handing him a large metal crowbar. "We've kept it handy for a while, just in case she...well, just in case."

He snatched the bar up, and, with a strength he didn't know he possessed, slammed it into the wooden door. It gave in after only a few strokes and he was able to wrench the shattered remains out of the frame. The Doctor forced his way into the room, Mystery and Jocelyn hot on his heels, and stopped short.

The room was empty.

* * *

 **A.N: I feel terribly evil right now. Hello, dears. Welcome back. This will be my last update for a bit, as I leave for New York in about 14 hours, so yeah. Sorry about that. I do have the beginnings of the next chapter written though, so that's a thing. Be excited. I am.**

 **I do have to ask, though: is anyone actually reading my quote list on my profile? I'm still going to keep doing it, because I like to feel clever, but I just want to know if anyone else cares about it. If you do, please PM me or something, I don't know. I'm a vain and arrogant author who likes to feel appreciated.**

 **My dearest thanks to you all, for reading along this far and putting up with continuous cliffhangers. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not, really. But anyway, you know how much I love to hear from you, so please review!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	17. Ding Dong

All three stared around in shock. "Where did they go?" whispered Jocelyn, tears streaming down her face. "They were both here, I saw them, where did they go?" The frenzied woman began searching the room, as though certain Joanna and Clara would pop out from under the bed or inside the closet, smiling and laughing.

"Jocelyn, don't," said the Doctor softly. "You won't find them." He sniffed the air, made a face, then pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He held it up and spun in a full circle. "Just as I thought," he said, holding it up to his eyes. "Loaded with displaced time energy."

"That angel did something to her, didn't it?" Mystery asked, eyeing the Time Lord. He looked away. "Didn't it, Doctor?"

"Angel?" Jocelyn queried, abandoning her search to stand beside Mystery. "What angel?"

"We haven't got time for this," he said impatiently, brushing off her questions. "Got to find Clara. Come along, Mystery." But Mystery crossed her arms and didn't budge.

"Clara was talking about an angel too," the distraught woman persisted, her voice shaking, but there was some steel in it too. "Doctor, tell me."

"Mystery, come on!" he said firmly, reaching for the door handle.

"Doctor, don't you dare," she said, furious. "Don't you dare step out that door." He turned around to glance at his young companion, and saw tear tracks running down her face. "You owe this woman an explanation. At least that."

"I don't owe her a thing," he said quietly, staring Mystery right in the eyes. "What happened to Joanna wasn't my fault, for once. But I'll tell you what is my fault," he continued before Mystery could open her mouth, "it's my fault that Clara's gone, and I'm going to get her back, alright? Now come on."

"In a hurry, are we?" Mystery asked, raising an eyebrow. "Want to save some time?" She pulled out the wooden chair Clara had sat in only moments ago and sat down. "I'm not going anywhere until Jocelyn knows exactly what happened here. I wouldn't mind knowing either. And you owe me enough not to leave me behind." She smiled slightly. "Look at me, delaying the Lord of Time."

The Doctor stared at her in frustration for a moment, debating calling her bluff, but the fire in her eyes made him hesitate. Finally he sat down on the bed, rubbing his eyes. "This never gets any easier," he said ruefully. "Nine hundred years, I've been doing this, and it's just as hard every time."

Mystery felt a flicker of pity - how many times had he been the bearer of bad news? - but refused to back down. The Doctor sighed and looked down at his hands.

"Joanna Mathers, through no fault of her own, had an angel growing inside her, a very dangerous creature from another world." Jocelyn's eyes widened, but she said nothing. "Just now, moments ago, it…" He paused, searching for the right word. "It grew up, and she couldn't hold it anymore, and-"

"She's dead," Jocelyn said shortly. "My wife is dead." It wasn't a question.

"She became an angel," Mystery said kindly. Jocelyn nodded, fighting back tears.

"We can speak to U.N.I.T for you," the Doctor offered. "I'm sure you can get some kind of compensation-"

"Doctor, thank you," Jocelyn said softly, "but no amount of compensation can ever make up for what I've lost here today." She left the room quietly, her back straight, making no attempt to hide the tears flowing down her face. Mystery and the Doctor sat in silence, hearing her walk down the hall, hearing Emily's cries, then a door slam and a car take off down the road. Mystery went to the window.

"She's left," she said, peering through the blinds. "Both of them. Where on Earth are they going?"

"Away," the Doctor said simply. "Sometimes that's all you can do. Just get away."

"Is that what you're doing?" she asked quietly, not looking at him. "Getting away?"

The Doctor looked at her. "I'm not running away," he said, his voice tight. "But this is one corner of one country of one continent on one planet that's a corner of a galaxy that's a corner of a universe that is forever growing and shrinking and creating and growing and never remaining the same for a single millisecond." He paused, and smiled slightly. "I'm not running away from things. I'm running to them. Before they flare and fade forever. And sometimes…" He shook his head. "Sometimes they aren't always things I want to see, want to live. But it's hard, very hard, to tell the difference. And every moment is unique, and that makes it precious. And I don't want to miss a thing."

There was silence for a moment, then the Doctor sprang to his feet. "Right, well, we'd best be off. Got to find Clara, after all."

"Find Clara?" Mystery repeated, confused. "You make it sound like she's just wandered off, like we've just got to go pick her up or something."

The Doctor smiled. "Mystery, do you know what happens when an angel touches you?"

"Er...You die?" she answered uncertainly.

"Well, yes and no. The touch of a weeping angel zaps you back in time. Years and years back. You live out your entire life in the past. I've known people to fall in love, raise a family, everything. It's really very kind. The angel feasts off the time energy you create, and you still get to live your time. But..."

"But in the present, you're dead," Mystery finished quietly. The Doctor bowed his head.

"Your family, your friends, all gone. Can you imagine living before your parents, your grandparents were born?"

Mystery considered this. "Yes," she said frankly. "I don't even know my parents. What do I have to leave behind?" She clenched her hands into fists, the knuckles showing white. "It should have been me," she said quietly. "Not her. She has a life, a family she knows. This shouldn't have happened to her."

"Don't," the Doctor said sharply. "Don't go blaming yourself for things you can't control. That doesn't do anyone any good. This was out of your hands, alright? None of us could have known that would happen. Don't blame yourself."

"Don't be like you, you mean?" The words flew out before she could stop herself. He stopped short, looking at her like a wounded animal, guarded yet vulnerable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No," he said heavily, waving off her apologies. "You were right. There is great power in being a Time Lord, and great power means great responsibility. Sometimes I wonder if I…" He sighed and looked away.

Mystery put a hand on his shoulder, unsure what else to do. How did one comfort an alien with more blood on his hands than she could imagine? He covered her hand with his own and squeezed it, then got to his feet.

"But all of that," he said, cheerful once more, "means that Clara has merely gone back in time. I should be able to track her energy signature and we'll just go pick her up. Easy fix, yeah?"

Mystery thought it couldn't possibly be that simple, but the Doctor's enthusiasm was catching. "Okay," she said with a grin. "Let's go find her."

He gave her a clap on the shoulder. "That's the way. Now," he said, pulling out the screwdriver, "if I can just-"

 _Ding dong._

They froze, staring at each other, neither one willing to break the sudden silence.

 _Ding dong._

"A doorbell?" Mystery asked cautiously. The sound was so normal after so many odd events that she didn't trust it at all. "What does that mean?"

"Well," said the Doctor, going to the window and peering out the blinds, "it means someone's here."

Mystery shook her head, annoyed at having asked such a simple question. "Yes, but who? Mailman, concerned neighbour?"

He shrugged. "I say we go find out."

They made their way through the eerily quiet house, stepping over toys and clothing strewn in the way. They had made it to the front hall before Mystery stopped short.

"Doctor, maybe we shouldn't open it." He turned to look at her incredulously. "Who knows what could be on the other side?" she hastened to add. "It could be an angel, you know. Or something worse."

"I suppose that's true," the Doctor said slowly. "But in my experience, angels don't ring doorbells."

 _Ding dong, ding dong_. The bell rang again, more insistently this time. "Yes, alright, I'm coming," said the Doctor, and he flung open the door.

There, standing on the doorstep, was a small woman, about eighty years old. She had grey streaks in her dark brown hair, and laugh lines around her eyes. She looked very familiar to Mystery, although she couldn't place why, but the Doctor clearly knew her, just as she seemed to recognize them. His face drained of all color. She smiled slightly.

"Hello, Doctor," said Clara Oswald. "It's been a very long time."

* * *

 **A.N: To our new friends, welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! New York was fabulous, thanks for asking. And I have returned to you with another chapter. This one wasn't originally going to exist, but I wrote the ending for the last chapter and then, with the help of my ever-lovely editor, decided to cut it off where I did. But then I just couldn't bear to part with this as a chapter ending, so I just had to fill it in. Hope you all liked it! I'll do my best to have the next chapter up soon. I start college, like, very soon, so there is that, but we'll see how it goes! Thank you all, and much love!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: Sorry about the continual updates; I keep changing my mind as to how old I want Clara to be. I think I've got it settled now, though.**


	18. Hello, Clara

"Clara?!" Mystery squawked. "You...But you're...You're so old!"

Clara smiled. "Glad to see you haven't changed, Mystery," she said kindly. "And you, Doctor…" She gripped his shoulders in one wizened hand, looking him up and down. The other hand, Mystery saw, was clutching a sturdy wooden cane. "Just as I remember you."

"You haven't changed a bit," he said, smiling weakly. "How long has it been?"

"Sixty-two years, four months, and three days," she rattled off. "I counted. I knew this would be the day."

"Sixty-two years?" Mystery yelped, still dumbfounded. "What have you been doing?"

"Waiting," she answered simply. "I got old, Mystery. Aren't you going to invite me in? Shouldn't keep an old lady standing, you know." Mystery was relieved to see the same spark of life in her eyes.

"Of course, of course," the Doctor said hastily, taking his companion's arm and guiding her down the hall, Mystery bobbing along behind. He sat her down on the recently cleared couch. Clara looked around, shaking her head.

"It all looks the same," she said, amused and faintly astonished. "I know it just happened today, but it's been a lifetime, Doctor. A lifetime ago and just minutes."

"So how was it, then?" he asked her, settling himself on the arm of the couch. Mystery stayed in the doorway, staring at her aged friend with a sort of morbid fascination.

"How was what?" Clara asked, looking up at him.

"The sixty-two years that I missed."

"Oh, how was my life, you mean?" she said tartly. He winced, but forged on.

"Was there ever a Mister Clara?" he asked, as though dreading the answer. She shook her head.

"No. Plenty of proposals, though."

"They all turned you down, then?" he inquired, and was rewarded with a smack on the shoulder.

"I turned them down!" she retorted, but she was laughing. "I travelled. I taught in every country in Europe. I learned to fly a plane!"

"You don't look any different," the Doctor said, taking her chin and turning her head back and forth. "You will never look any different to me, Clara Oswald. But you've had a whole life!"

"Maybe now you know how we feel," she said quietly. He flinched and looked away, dropping his hand like she'd burned him.

"So how did you find us?" Mystery asked from the doorway.

"I waited," Clara said simply. "I landed in 1951, in the middle of a field outside Wales. Made my way into town, made a life. I moved here about three years ago, waiting for you to come. Did some research. U.N.I.T. told me about the angels, as much as they knew, anyway. When that church fell in, I started watching. I found the TARDIS on the street, followed you here. I guessed on the time, though," she added, somewhat apologetic. "I didn't really want to hear myself screaming." She shook her head, chuckling a bit. "That sounds mad, doesn't it?"

"But then we never found you," the Doctor said quietly, looking closely at her. "We never rescued you, never brought you back. Sixty-two years, and I never bothered to find you."

"That's right," she answered, her face expressionless. "You never did."

"There's still time," he said, desperate and apologetic. "Time can be rewritten-"

"No, Doctor," Clara said firmly but kindly, taking his hand and pressing it between her own. "Not those times. Don't you dare. I lived a life, Doctor, and it was a good one, and if you rescue me, I'll cease to exist. Everything I've seen and done dissolves. Time is rewritten. I will die. Another Clara will take my place, one who never lived that time, one who grew old with you, and she, in sixty-two years, won't be me." She paused, wiping a tear off her wrinkled cheek, and smiled. "I don't want that, Doctor. Thank you, but no."

They sat in silence for a while before Clara burst out, "Oh, I've missed you all so much!" And then they were hugging and crying.

"I thought I'd lost you forever!" Mystery cried, wiping away tears. The Doctor, too, was scrubbing away tears with his tweed sleeve. Clara laughed, although she was crying too.

"It takes a little more than one angel to lose me," she answered, hugging Mystery tight. "By the way," she added, once they had separated, "what did happen to that angel?"

Mystery and the Doctor traded glances. "Er...we don't know," the Doctor answered awkwardly. "It disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Clara exclaimed, alarmed. "But it could be anywhere! People could be disappearing right and left, we've got to find it!"

"Er...Are you sure, Clara?" Mystery asked cautiously. "I mean, this could be dangerous, and you're...well, you're-"

"I'm old?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "I've been traveling with the Doctor for longer than you, my dear, and I know full well what being with him is like. Don't you tell me what I can and can't do."

Clara's glare was so fierce and her conviction so strong that Mystery had no choice but to surrender. Clara turned to the Doctor, forestalling any more discussion.

"So, Doctor, what's the plan?" she asked. He squirmed. "Doctor, I waited 62 years for this. Tell me you have a plan."

"Alright. I have a plan."

"Good!" she said, smiling at him like a teacher to a child who's given the right answer. "And that plan is?"

"Er...Well...I don't know? Oi!" he exclaimed, for Clara had rapped him soundly on the head with her cane. "Time Lord brain! Very precious! Do not damage!"

"Oh, shut up," she said, waving the cane threateningly in his face. "If that brain's so very precious, then put it to work, eh?"

"Alright, alright!" he said, scooting away from her and falling off the edge of the couch with a crash. Mystery started forward, but he quickly popped back up. "Plan! Yes! Got one! Ow," he said, rubbing his precious Time Lord head.

"Lived for centuries and he's still a gangly teenager," Clara commented. He ignored her.

"So. Back to the TARDIS, everyone," he said, bounding to his feet and pulling Clara up and out the door, ignoring her protests. Mystery followed, laughing. "Time to go."

"Go?" Clara cried indignantly. "We can't just _go,_ there's an angel loose! How many more people do you think it's going to zap back in time?"

"Exactly," he said, spinning around and pointing at her. "Simple cause and effect. I can't track the angel, not without direct TARDIS contact, and all that time energy was keyed to you, linked to you. So we hop forward a few days, look around for someone who's been touched, find out when it was, and presto, we find the angel!" He beamed at them for a moment, then wrinkled his nose. "Presto, that's fun. Maybe a bit too much, though, what do you think?"

"Definitely too much," Clara said. Mystery nodded in hearty agreement.

"Right. Well, then, to the TAR-" he stopped. "It's all the way back by that church, isn't it? Unless U.N.I.T.'s got hold of it. I really need to get a ship that's harder to move."

"Actually, U.N.I.T. has got hold of it," Clara said. "They took it away for storage. Cluttering up the crime scene, you know." She shrugged. "Thought it'd be safer."

"Policemen," the Doctor grumbled. "Rubbish. Always doing their jobs, it's very unhelpful. Well, we'll just have to call them and-"

"Actually, look outside," Clara said, hiding a grin. "Go on," she added at the Doctor's confusion. He pulled open the door and stuck his head out.

"My TARDIS!" he cried, delighted. Then he looked back at Clara, one eyebrow raised. "Care to explain how it got there?"

"Oh, I made some calls," she said offhandedly. The Doctor stared.

"To _U.N.I.T._? What'd you do, poke them with your cane? Ow!"

"They owed me one," she told the Doctor, who was rubbing his side. "I learned a thing or two traveling with you, Doctor," she added when both the Doctor and Mystery looked surprised. "Helped them sort out a cybermite problem, oh, twenty years back? I forget exactly, but anyway, I had it delivered. Brought me here, too. Very kind."

"Well, that's...I mean...Well, I'd better go say hello," he said, flashing them a somewhat flustered grin before dashing outside. Clara shook her head.

"Figures," she muttered. "The snogbox gets a better reaction than me. But that's always the way it's been," she sighed to Mystery, although she was smiling. "This is the Doctor we're talking about, he's in a codependent relationship with a screwdriver, I mean, if he had to choose between an enormous, complicated machine he could fix with a toolkit and a girl, who would he go with?"

Mystery grinned at her, not trusting herself to answer without busting out laughing.

"Yeah, you're right," Clara said ruefully, grinning back. "Both of them. Using the same toolkit. Come on!" she said, looping her arm through Mystery's, who was now laughing uncontrollably. "Can't let him get too far ahead." Together, Clara leaning heavily on her cane, they opened the door and left Jocelyn's house for what Mystery fervently hoped was the last time.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, you lot! I meant to add some more onto this chapter, but it was getting long, so I thought heck. Save it for later, eh? This chapter is positively packed with quotes, happy and heartbreaking, so that's always fun. See if you can spot them! Also, I've finally figured out just how to end this thing (had to change it from my original plan because my ships underwent a drastic reconfiguration in which I actually met River properly (fun fact: it was originally going to be her here instead of Clara but then I realized I knew nothing about her at the time and I knew a good deal about Clara)) so that's good, and it's going to be brilliant, if I do say so myself, and I just can't wait to get there, but we've got to take care of the blasted angels first. So motivation to finish things! Anyway, college for me starts in less than a week, so probably my rate of output will drop significantly but I really don't know because I've never been to college before, so wish me luck with that! Thanks, all for reading, and please leave a review. I love you all!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	19. Clara Again

"There you are!" exclaimed the Doctor as Mystery shut the TARDIS door. "Thought you'd never make it. Clara, that's for you," he said, pointing to a large, plush armchair sitting on the edge of the platform. "Rest those old bones, eh?"

"My bones aren't as old as yours," she retorted, although she settled into the chair with a sigh of relief.

"Yes, but I am a Time Lord," he told her loftily, dancing about at the controls. "I am in the prime of my life. My bones don't need resting."

"Gangly teenager," Mystery whispered to Clara, who nodded and grinned.

"Although," continued the Doctor, pausing for a moment to consider, "I did get new bones in my regeneration, which was not as long ago as your birth, so actually, your bones are older than mine. Hah!"

"Oh, shut it, you," Clara snapped, glaring at Mystery, who stopped giggling and adopted a sober expression appropriate for someone at a funeral. She hurried over to the Doctor, eager to get out of reach of Clara's cane.

"So a few days in the future, huh?" she asked him, bumping his shoulder with her own. "I think that's the first time I've ever actually traveled in time with you."

"Is it?" He glanced over at her. "Well, don't expect anything too fancy, it's not a very long trip." He turned his attention back to the hanging monitor, which had one green line running across it, jagged and bumpy like the reading off a heart monitor. Mystery looked back at Clara, who had fallen asleep and was snoring gently in her armchair, and decided to indulge her curiosity.

"What's that?" she asked, trying to get a better look over his shoulder.

"Oh, nothing much, just a relative temporal energy tracker."

"Okay, Doctor, I hope you're going to explain that, because I have no clue what that means," Mystery said, propping her hands on her hips.

"A relative temporal energy tracker? Oh come on, that's basic stuff! It just measures time energy, displaced time energy. See, look," he added, pulling down the screen so the shorter woman could see. "Green line, that's good, that's okay. Orange line, not so good, got to be careful." Mystery could now see that the tips of several spikes in the graph were tinted orange. "Mauve, very bad. Serious time energy displacement, hole-in-the-fabric-of-reality kind of thing. Very not good."

" _Mauve?"_

"What wrong with mauve? Universally recognized color for danger."

"But what about red?" Mystery asked, trying for a better look at the screen.

"Oh, that's just humans," the Doctor said dismissively.

"Okay," she said, choosing to move on. "So what makes it mauve?"

"Oh, any number of things, really," he answered, spinning away from the screen to twist some dials across the console. "I cross my own time stream, big nasty paradoxes, temporal shifts, that sort of thing. Time travel in and of itself displaces time energy, you know," he added, pulling down a large lever. "Usually I don't bother to keep track of it, but-"

"But weeping angels feed on displaced time energy," Mystery finished for him. "So when you hit some... mauve, you've found the angel?"

He blinked at her, nonplussed. "Well, yes, actually, that is a very good idea, very good!" he said brightly, kissing her forehead and popping back to his controls. "I was thinking more that this is your first time travel, that we know of, anyway, and since we don't really know what you are…"

He paused in his frantic typing to stare at her, as though by looking at her hard enough he could discern exactly what she was made of. Mystery cleared her throat.

"Right, yes, well, since there is that element of _mystery_ to it," he said mischievously, glancing at her for her reaction. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused. "Oh, come on!" the Doctor groaned. "That was good. You have to admit that's good." Mystery only shook her head, although she smiled faintly. "Where's a Silurian audience when you need one?" he grumbled.

"A _what_ audience?"

"Silurian," he repeated. " _Homo reptilia._ Lizard people. Died out now, or almost, but they knew how to appreciate good humor."

"The only people that like your jokes are _lizards."_

"Yes, well, shut up." He turned back to his keyboard. " _Anyway,_ I was only using the relative temporal energy tracker to make sure nothing...unpleasant...happened with you on board. Can't be too careful, after all."

"You, careful?" she scoffed. "Please."

He shrugged. "Fair point. But," he added, pulling the screen away from her and glancing at the readings, "that might just be an excellent way to find that angel. If I can get a lock on a mauve flare, we can follow it to the end of the universe and back. Although, let's not," he added, clearly remembering something. "It isn't any fun."

"You're not telling me you've been there."

"Oh yeah. Once or twice. I forget exactly."

"To the _end_ of the _universe."_

"All of time and space, right outside those doors," he reminded her. "The end of the universe is just a time, you know, like any other time. A plain old two minutes past five on the twenty-second of April, just a billion billion years from now. Why should it be any different?" He went back to his typing, shoving the screen over to Mystery. She pulled it closer reflexively, still trying to comprehend this.

"But…The end. Of the entire universe. And you've been there _twice?"_

"It may have been more than twice," the Doctor allowed. "Universes end all the time," he added, seeing her confusion. "Someone dies, a natural disaster, a war. But they have a funny way of continuing."

Mystery was spared needing to answer this by a sudden spike in the energy graph. The tip was indeed mauve. "Doctor!" she cried, catching hold of his tweed sleeve and yanking him over to stare at the screen. He pulled his spectacles out of a pocket and put them on, staring intently at the display.

"Coordinates," he muttered, pushing buttons seemingly at random. "I need coordinates. If I can just-"

"Triple seven five slash three four nine by ten zero twelve slash...acorn?" Mystery called out. "I read Gallifreyan, remember?" she added when the Doctor stared. He shook his head, typing them in.

"You are a marvel, you know that?" he said to her, making her blush. "Now if I can track the time sequence…" He flicked a lever and the TARDIS roared to life. "And go!"

"What's going on?" Clara cried, waking with a jolt. "Are we there?"

"We've only just gone," Mystery answered, rushing to her side. "You hardly missed a thing."

"Should only be a short trip," the Doctor called. "I wouldn't advise getting up, though," he added. "Extra time energy makes things a bit - _woah!"_

The TARDIS rocked violently to one side, throwing the Doctor and Mystery against the railing and sending the armchair sliding. Clara clung to her chair, grabbing for the console as she went skidding by. She knocked several blue switches as she went by, and the TARDIS suddenly leveled out. The armchair slid to a halt, fetching up against the opposite railing. Mystery and the Doctor picked themselves up off the floor.

"What happened?" Mystery asked, scooping Clara's cane off the floor and handing it back to her. "It's like we stopped."

"I just knocked some levers or something," said Clara, looking scared. "It was an accident, I swear."

"We didn't stop." The Doctor hurried over to the panel in question. "Knocked some levers, eh?" he mumbled, looking closely at the array of buttons and dials and switches before him. "Knocked some - oh. The stabilizers."

"Stabilizers?"

"Yes, the blue stabilizers," he repeated, scowling and flicking them back off. The TARDIS returned to its normal, jolting movement, although less severe than before. "Hate those things."

"Hold on," Clara said, narrowing her eyes at the Doctor. "You've had stabilizers all this time and never bothered to use them?"

"Yeah. Well, it's just boring now, isn't it? They're boring-ers. They're blue boring-ers."

"Unbelievable," muttered Clara. "Unbelievable."

The Doctor was saved from having to respond by the familiar wheezing and groaning of the TARDIS coming in to land. "Come on, then," he said hastily, helping the elderly Clara out of her chair. He led her to the doors and flung them open, then grinned back at Mystery. "The future awaits."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi! I am here with another chapter, which may be my last for a while because I have successfully advanced to the third round of this contest, so yay, and I have to start something for that. So look for that soon! It has to be a crossover, which I'm not thrilled about exactly, but oh well. I'm thinking a Percy Jackson adventure featuring maybe a Graske? Hopefully it will be shorter, although I haven't had much luck with short things in ever, but we'll see. All in the air at this point. Anyway, thanks for reading and thank you for putting up with my frequent hiatuses. Much love to you all, and please review!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	20. Paradoxes

Mystery stepped out onto the street and looked around. The TARDIS was tucked neatly onto a street corner, hidden in a little alley. "This is the future?" she asked the Doctor. "Doesn't look much different to me. Just dark. You sure we've moved?"

"Of course I'm sure," the Doctor said, helping Clara out of the TARDIS. "It's only a few days, you know. Three days, nine hours, eight minutes, and thirteen seconds, to be exact. About 2:00 in the morning. Why should it look any different?"

Mystery shrugged. "I guess I had expected time travel to be a little more...spectacular."

"Spectacular?" he repeated. "Oh, I can do spectacular. You just wait. How does 15th century France sound? Or, better yet, Starship UK. It's Britain, but metal. It's not just a ship, it's an idea. That's a whole country, living and laughing and shopping. Searching the stars for a new home. That spectacular enough for you?"

"Yes, I think that will do," Mystery said with a grin.

"Can we get moving, please?" Clara called, leaning on her cane. "Things to do, you know."

"Right, of course," said the Doctor, shaking his head vigorously. "So. We know there's at least one angel here, probably two or three. If U.N.I.T.'s doing their job properly, that should be about it."

"So?" Mystery asked. "How do you beat an angel?"

"Well, you can't not really," he said with a shrug. "You need a paradox, a big, nasty, powerful paradox. This town is the angel's food source. The paradox poisons the well. It could kill them all. This whole place would literally unhappen."

"Okay?" Mystery asked, waiting for the catch. "So…?"

"To create a paradox like that takes almost unimaginable power," the Doctor told her. "It's next to impossible, and the consequences are immeasurable. Can't be done."

Clara glanced at him. "Life and soul, you are," she remarked. "There's got to be a way."

"Well, you can delay them, trap them, put them off," the Doctor explained. "Beat them? No. So. How do we delay them?"

"Mirrors," Mystery blurted. "You said in that church, they get trapped in mirrors."

"Yes, good!" He beamed at her. "Good memory. Yes, mirrors, or any kind of reflection. How else?

"Each other?" Clara volunteered. "Looking at each other, then they're stuck, right?'

"Both good answers, " he said, rubbing his hands together. "So here's what we're going to do."

He ducked back into the TARDIS, leaving the two older women standing in the street. Clara hobbled over to a nearby bench.

"I hate when he does that," she grumbled. "Would it kill him to just explain right away? Just once?"

"He does love a captive audience," Mystery agreed. "Maybe that's why he keeps companions around. He needs someone to appreciate it when he's been clever."

Clara snorted. "He is clever, though," she said grudgingly. "Very very clever. Just don't ever tell him I said so."

Mystery smiled. "Agreed," she said.

"Ta da!" the Doctor called, bursting out of the TARDIS. He was carrying three pairs of black sunglasses. "Mirrored!" he exclaimed. He tossed one to Mystery. "What do you think? Don't worry about blinking now, eh? Portable angel traps. Absolutely guaranteed, mostly. Three of us, three or less angels, what could go wrong?"

Mystery and Clara glanced at each other. Their look clearly said _Everything._

"So what are we going to do with these?" Clara asked, taking the offered sunglasses and looking at her reflection. "Urgh. Here's some advice, Mystery. Don't get old."

The Doctor chuckled. "First thing to do, get some attention." He pulled out his sonic, adjusting the settings. "If there's any noise in the universe guaranteed to attract a weeping angel, it's the TARDIS landing. And the second most recognizable noise is-" He raised the sonic high above his head and pressed the button. "The sonic screwdriver."

The familiar pulsing sound filled the air, echoing around the deserted street. The Doctor let it go on for a moment, then snapped the sonic shut. "Right," he said, tossing it to Mystery. "Give it some squirts of helicon energy, setting number forty one. No more than three seconds each, random pulses. Should give them enough to follow us."

Mystery nodded, fiddling with the dials on the screwdriver. Clara set aside her mirror.

"So now what, Doctor? You can't bring the angels here, there's too many people."

"Exactly!" exclaimed the Doctor, rubbing his hands together. "So we're going to play a little game of cat and mouse. Hunter and hunted. Predator and prey." He grinned at his two companions. "Come on, ladies. We've got places to be."

* * *

They walked down the street, out of the town and into a grassy meadow, with a lake in the distance. On a bright summer day it might have been pretty, but this late at night, with the moon shining down and the mist rolling off the lake, it was eerily quiet.

Mystery shivered. The dew on the grass had soaked her shoes through, and despite to Doctor's insistence that it was all psychological, she couldn't help but feel unsettled. The place was decidedly creepy, where absolutely anything could happen.

She pressed down hard on the sonic button, trying to take her mind off things.

"Random bursts!" the Doctor called. "What's random about that?"

"What do you mean?" Mystery snapped, spinning around to face him. "That was random!"

"No it wasn't," the Doctor said briskly, striding along ahead of her, Clara's arm linked in his own. "You've been going every seven seconds, then four, then five, then three, then eight and a half. Over and over. They'll catch on to us at this rate. Figure out it's a trap."

Clara snickered, but Mystery could only stare. "Isn't that kind of the point?" she asked doubtfully. He shook his head.

"Always conserve the element of surprise," he told her. "Even when it isn't meant to be one. Now," he exclaimed, pulling out the mirrors and handing one to Clara. "This looks like a good place. Quantum energy overlay, multiple lay lines converging, and…" he said, sniffing the air, "a hint of apple grass. Perfect." He looked at the two women, so old and so young. "Time to trap some angels."

They stood in a circle, back to back to back, glasses clutched tightly in their hands. The Doctor had laid out their basic plan on the way: Get each angel caught in the mirrors, then, on his signal, duck. "I've done it with the TARDIS," he'd explained. "Get them looking at it, then dematerialize, and bam. They're caught looking at each other and stuck forever. Works every time."

"So why can't we do that this time?" Clara had asked.

"No incentive," he'd replied. "They know they can't get in, not if I'm there."

So now came the part that neither woman was too pleased with.

"Are your eyes closed?" the Doctor called over his shoulder. Clara and Mystery glanced at each other, then reluctantly shut their eyes.

"Yes," they called. Clara felt a hand reaching for hers and clutched it tightly. Mystery smiled.

"Okay…" he said, looking around. The mist was thick and strong, obscuring all but the closest of landmarks. "Here we go, then." He blinked.

When he snapped his eyes open, there they were. Three weeping angels. "Clara, Mystery, open your eyes. Glasses on. They're all here," he added, "all here on my side. All three."

"No, Doctor," came Clara's shaky voice. "They're over here. Two of them."

"Three over here," Mystery added, peering into the darkness through her tinted sunglasses. Clara felt the hand grip her even tighter.

"Ah," breathed the Doctor. "That's really not good."

He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye, and when he looked back, there she was: an angel face, merely two inches from his own, with teeth bared and hands up and ready. Two more stood behind her, and he could see others farther into the distance.

"Blasted U.N.I.T," he grumbled, fumbling for his sonic. "Just keep their eyes, shut, can you do that? Apparently not." He pointed the sonic directly into the face of the angel before him, then checked the readings out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, Joanna," he whispered, too softly for the others to hear. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, and I promise, I will make this right."

He slipped the sonic back in his jacket pocket, then rubbed his hands together. "Okay, Clara, Mystery, listen carefully, because if you haven't noticed, we are in a lot of danger right now."

"Oh, you think?" snapped Clara, but it was more of a squeak. In a different situation, Mystery might have laughed, but not here, not now.

"Yes, I do, thanks," the Doctor replied irritably. "Now both of you, back up as close to me as possible. As far from them as you can." He heard feet shuffling and felt two pairs of shoulders at his back. "Good. Now blink."

"What?" Mystery cried in disbelief. "Are you mad?"

"Quite possibly."

"Doctor, you can't be serious," Clara said, as if trying to calm a wild animal. "They're right there! Blink and poof, gone!"

"Clara, you've got to trust me," he said, quickly and quietly. "We've got to get them as close together as possible, so they can all see each other and freeze each other."

"It won't work," Mystery said, shaking her head. "There's too many."

"Well, it's still our best shot," the Doctor said grimly.

"Our best shot?" Clara repeated. "Best shot, what do you mean? What else?"

"There's always a paradox," Mystery said quietly.

"No, there is not!" the Doctor exclaimed, frustrated. "I told you, you can't just pull a paradox out of the air! This isn't some magic trick, alright? It's a complex thing that could have galaxy-shattering repercussions. We _can't make a paradox."_

"Yes, we can," Clara whispered suddenly. The Doctor had to resist the urge to stare at her.

"Alright, explain," he said, "because I'm not seeing it, not at all."

"Me," she said, voice shaking. "I'm a paradox, or I was. I've been living twice for years now, once with you and once here alone. That's a paradox, isn't it?"

"Well, a bit," the Doctor admitted. "Only if the two time streams touch, only if you were to meet your other self, if you were to interact in some way, which you didn't."

"Right. But three," Clara continued, "If they zap me back again, I can meet myself. Maybe both of myselves, and force us all to interact. That'd be a paradox, wouldn't it."

Silence.

"Doctor? It would, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," he said heavily, "it would. But there's so many things that could go wrong, Clara. You could go back too far and die before you ever get close to either one, the paradox could go wrong and not kill these angels at all, the reapers could come for you first-"

"The _what?"_

"Never mind that, Clara, just don't do it. It won't work."

"And how sure are you of that, Doctor?"

"...85%?"

"I'll take those odds," Clara said grimly, pulling off her sunglasses and throwing them aside.

"Clara, please," Mystery cried, clutching Clara's wrinkled hand in her own. "You'll die!"

"I'll die anyway, Mystery," she said softly. "Everybody does, sooner or later. And I don't belong here, not like this. Not this age. I thought I could do it, thought I could run with you just like I always have, Doctor, but I was kidding myself. It's not fair to you to make you cart along an old lady like this, holding you back."

"Don't say that," said the Doctor sharply.

"We both know it's true," she said, speaking over him. "Just let me go, Doctor. Let me live the rest of this life, on the chance that it'll do you some good. Just the chance to help you. That's all I ask."

"Clara-"

"Is there a better way?"

The Doctor swallowed hard and shook his head. "If you must."

She nodded. "Right then. Goodbye, Mystery. I'm sorry I never got to see who you really are, but it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"No," Mystery said, fighting back tears. "No, it doesn't, Clara."

"And Doctor, if it works… _when_ it works, then run. Run, you clever boy, and remember."

Mystery felt Clara squeeze her hand, and then suddenly, her hand was empty.

"CLARA!" the Doctor roared, her name echoing across the empty meadow. His voice was raw and helpless, and it broke Mystery's heart even further apart.

Mystery saw lights turning on in the distant village at the sound. Maybe it was her eyes adjusting, but those lights seemed to fill her vision, blinding her. She raised a hand, but the white light persisted, piercing and burning. She closed her eyes, and everything went black.

* * *

 **A.N: Oh, the feels. Such feels I am bringing you, and after such a long separation! Hopefully this was enough of an apology, although perhaps I owe you another one after all of that. But rest assured, dear readers, that all is not lost, for I am nothing if not true to canon (as much as possible) and there is yet hope for Clara - after all, she's got another Doctor to meet and adventures to have with him! So don't worry too much.**

 **I am delighted to inform you that I have finally successfully managed to plan out the entire ending to this story, with the possible room for a sequel if you folks demand it. So! I have set up a little poll on my profile page as to whether or not you'd like to see more stories with Mystery! For the end is in sight, my friends, sad as I am to say it. But I promise you, it will be brilliant. (I'm very modest, I know. But really) So if you'd like to see her adventures continue, then please go cast your vote! I think if I get more than 10 votes yes, I'll do it, but we'll see how I'm feeling. The more votes yes, the more convinced I'll be! So please leave me a lovely review telling me how much you missed this ;) and thank you all so much for reading!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: If any of you have miraculously ever played the Wii game Endless Ocean 2, go check my profile page, because I've got something you might like**

 **P.P.S: I've officially broken 100k total archived words, which is completely amazing and I can't hardly believe it**


	21. Where You Need To Go

The Doctor sat bolt upright on the TARDIS floor, staring around at the console. "Oh," he said, blinking away his surprise. "I escaped, then. Brilliant. I love it when I do that."

He scrambled to his feet, patting his legs and chest. "Legs, yes. Bow tie, cool." He felt his chin and made a face. "Still me then. Haven't regenerated yet. Good, I'm fond of this model."

He dashed to the console, flicking buttons and levers. "The paradox worked, then," he muttered, pulling over the screen and examining it. "But it shouldn't have...The chances of that working and me landing here are almost nonexistent…"

Fingers flying over the keyboard, the Doctor typed in a series of commands. The screen began to flash a line of text, over and over.

"Genetic creationary paradox?" the Doctor exclaimed. "No, no no no that can't be right. Multiple lives, it should be a Time Stream Interaction paradox. Run it again."

The screen scrolled through lines of text and calculations before coming up with the same result. The Doctor pounded the console in frustration.

"Everything I find out makes less sense," he grumbled, pacing back and forth around the console. "So Clara dies, at some point in history, in some situation." He spun back to the screen, still blinking those same words. "Unless she didn't? Genetic creationary… And I wake up here. So if I'm here…"

He dashed back to the console, typing furiously. "Where are Clara and Mystery?"

The hanging screen went black, then big white words began scrolling across the screen: _I don't always take you where you want to go, but I always take you where you need to go._

"I'm really not in the mood for games, Sexy," the Doctor said sternly. "Tell me where you've put them."

The screen remained stubbornly unchanged. The Doctor sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"Alright, I'm sorry I hit you. Will you tell me now?" The screen flashed once, then went blank. "Thank you." He began typing again, checking to make sure the TARDIS was actually responding. "Women," he muttered. In response, a jet of steam shot out of the console, blinding him. "Hey!" he yelled, waving his hands in front of his face and flailing about. "Was that necessary?" There was a beeping sound, almost contrite.

"Apology accepted," the Doctor said primly. "Now stop it." He patted the console affectionately, then returned to his keyboard. "So, if I run a thermal scan for heat signatures, that should tell me roughly where they are...Pity you can't map all of time and space."

Soon two blinking red dots appeared on the screen. The Doctor stared in confusion. "Why...But that...What are you playing at, old girl?"

The screen flashed back to the same lines as before, as though taunting him. "Yes, alright, I know, I know." He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and dashed off, down the ramp and out the door, plunging deeper into the TARDIS. "But what are they doing there?"

* * *

Clara opened her eyes with a gasp. She scrabbled back and found herself pressed against the wall. No weeping angels in sight. She blinked. Weeping angels? Why would there be weeping angels? Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She was breathing heavily, and wasn't quite sure why.

She looked around and found herself in a small, dark room with reddish walls. It was a room she'd never seen before, but she knew instinctively that she was somewhere in the TARDIS. There were two doors, one in front and one behind her. The only light came from a small window across from her. From her perspective on the floor, Clara couldn't see what was inside, but the light was a bright yellow and appeared to be moving, casting wavering shadows around the room.

To the right of each door was a small sensory, with what looked like a place for a hand. "To open it, probably," she said out loud, and her voice echoed in the tiny chamber.

Clara got to her feet and and carefully placed her hand on the rear door's senor. "Please open," she whispered. But the sensor blinked red and the door stayed shut. "Why am I not surprised," she muttered, giving the door a kick and turning away.

The other door, then. Clara stepped carefully towards it, her face bathed with warmth from the light pouring out of the small window. The sight of that light filled her with both apprehension and desire, a glowing yellow siren song, calling her forward. She peered in the window, then froze.

Her own reflection stared back at her, eyes wide and frightened. She touched her hair carefully, watching her reflection do the same. "I'm young," she murmured, running gentle fingers over her cheeks. "I'm young again," she whispered, her excitement building, "just like I was, I'm…" Her voice trailed off and she stared at her face in the glass. "Of course you're young. You're only twenty-six," she told herself sternly. But looking at herself in the makeshift mirror, she was still faintly confused. "So why is that surprising?"

 _Weeping angels,_ she thought, mulling it over. _And now I'm surprised not to be old. Something's not right. Maybe I fell asleep and dreamt it all?_ But no, that didn't explain how she'd gotten into this room in the first place.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the nagging sensation of missing something important, and turned her attention back to the light. The window itself was tinted, she saw now, the glass itself a dark grey. But still that golden light poured out, filling the room and caressing her face with its heat.

"What are you?" she whispered, touching the glass lightly. Her fingers were a dark silhouette against the brightness. "I've been all over the TARDIS, I've been deeper into it than I imagined existed, as deep as the Doctor's ever been, and I've never seen anything like this."

Her hand strayed towards the door sensor. "I probably shouldn't do this," she said under her breath. "Bad things happen when you muck about in the TARDIS, I know, I know."

"But this could be my only way out," countered the curious part of herself. "Don't want to be trapped in here forever."

She shook her head. "Oh, stop," her rational side said. "The Doctor will save me, I know he will. He has never, ever let me down."

Her fingers brushed the top of the sensor. "It's interesting, though," she admitted. "Pretty and scary at the same time, which is probably a bad combination. But some of the most fascinating things I've seen have been terrifying, and here I am…"

 _You're babbling,_ she thought. _Talking to an empty room, trying to justify what you know you're going to do anyway. Get over yourself, can't you? Do it or don't._

"Alright, alright," she said loudly. She reached for the sensor and was about to open it when she heard a strange, mechanical hiss. She spun around and saw the door behind her opening.

"Oh, thank God," she murmured, throwing herself into the Doctor's waiting arms.

"Clara!" he exclaimed, picking her up and spinning her about. The toes of her boots nearly scraped the walls.

"How did you find me? Where am I? How did I get here?"

"One question at a time," he told her, setting her down and laughing. "Oh, Clara, it is good to see you like this again."

"What d'you mean, 'like this'?" she asked suspiciously. "Why shouldn't I be like this?"

"Well, the angels," the Doctor said cautiously. "They zapped you back in time…" He trailed off at the utter lack of recognition in her eyes. "You don't remember a word I'm saying, do you."

Clara shook her head. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"Paradoxes," he said, shrugging. "They're unpredictable, never know what's going to happen."

"Paradoxes?" Clara repeated blankly. "How-"

"Never mind that," he said quickly. "Nothing happened, not really. Well, probably not, actually," he added to himself, scratching his head. "If the paradox erased everything that was here… Anyway, not important," he finished quickly, seeing Clara's face. "What is important is, what are you doing in here?"

"I don't know," she said, stepping back and looking around. "I've never seen it before. Is it important?"

"Might be." He pulled out his sonic and scanned the spot where she had first arrived. "I always take you where you need to go…" he muttered. "So why here?"

"What was that, Doctor?" Clara asked sharply.

"Nothing, nothing." He straightened up, stowing the sonic back in his pocket. "This, Clara," he said, pointing to the window still glowing behind them, "is the time vortex."

"The time vortex," she said slowly. "As in, all of time and space? Right there?"

"It's the place where time and space meet," he clarified. "The dimensional plane through which all time travelers must pass. But, yes," he admitted. "Time and space works also. Used to be under the TARDIS console, but I relocated it."

"Why?"

"I had a… problem with a friend, I guess you could say," he said quietly, clearly remembering. "Didn't end well. Almost killed her. Actually made me regenerate. So I thought I'd better do something about it." He grinned at her, but Clara could tell it was a painful memory.

"So now it's here," she said, trying to change the subject as much as she could.

"Now it's here," he confirmed. "Double locked, hidden away, only opens for me. As for why you're here… I just don't know. That's new." He shrugged and looked up at her. "But I expect we'll soon find out."

Clara nodded, then realized something. "Where's Mystery? She's still here, isn't she? I didn't dream her too?"

"No, she's still here," the Doctor said, pulling out his screwdriver and changing the settings. "Or at least I hope so. Haven't found her yet. I came for you first," he said, almost apologetically. "I wasn't sure if… well, you were closer, and-"

"So now we've got to find Mystery," Clara said, cutting him off. "So, Doctor. Where is she?"

"I don't know," the Doctor said, grinning down at her. "But I know where to look."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello! Sorry about the rather incompleteness of this chapter. It got quite long quite fast, a sensation I'm all too familiar with, so Mystery's bit is going to have to be saved for the next chapter. I think it'll be worth the wait, though. I'm bringing in a new and I think under-explored element of Doctor Who. Spoilers :) Hopefully that'll be up within the week, can't make any promises. You know me.**

 **Also, I've been listening to the Doctor Who soundtrack a lot recently. It's very good for writing. I highly recommend it.**

 **I also will remind you that there is a poll up for Mystery Girl's potential sequel. I'm changing it today. There is going to be a sequel, without a doubt. So. Would you rather see a sequel first or an Amy and Rory adventure that will involve lots and lots of Amys? The choice is yours, so make it known!**

 **I think that's all, so thank you all so much for the reviews I received on the last chapter, and let's keep it coming! I love you all very dearly :)**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	22. Mystery's Moment

**A.N: If you haven't already, go watch the prequel She Said, He Said. It'll give you the setting for this bit so I don't sound crazy.**

* * *

Mystery gasped and sat up, rubbing her pounding head, instantly on the alert.

"Doctor, the angels, they're-" She stopped short, only now taking in her surroundings. She was certainly not in the field with the angels. Nor, it appeared, was she outdoors at all. Instead she was in a large, low room, full of the strangest collection of things. Mystery could see a dress on a stand, a huge metal man sitting before a chessboard, an Aztec calendar, and what looked like a portrait of Clara, among other things.

"What is this place?" she murmured, slowly getting to her feet. "Some kind of storage place?" There certainly seemed to be no rhyme or reason, no order, like things had just been shoved in as they were found. Treasured possessions? Good memories? Or bad ones?

Mystery walked up to a large metallic structure, covered in lights and dials. "What are you?" she asked, running a finger along the top. This stirred up a tremendous cloud of dust and sent Mystery staggering away, coughing and choking. "Okay, maybe nothing too treasured, then."

She set off, curious as to what she might find, but also anxious to get out and get back to the Doctor and Clara. _If Clara's still alive,_ said the back of her mind, but she squashed that thought as quickly as she could. "Of course she's alive," she told herself. "How could she not be?"

Shaking off that thought, Mystery moved cautiously through the room, doing her best not to stir up too much dust. If she could just find a door…

She ducked around a tall white pillar, narrowly avoiding tripping on a long, low pipe, and found herself face to face with a huge snowman with a sinister toothy smile.

"Aah!" she screamed, scrambling backwards. Her ankle connected with the pipe and she felt herself falling. She crashed into a pile of metal parts, sending things flying and creating all sorts of noise. When everything had settled, Mystery crawled out of the mess, rubbing her tailbone and staring at the snowman suspiciously.

"You needn't worry, it won't harm you." A woman's a voice came from behind her, startling her. She jumped back again, this time colliding with the great white pillar and smacking her head. Brushing off the pain, Mystery whipped around looking for the speaker.

A woman with long, curly blonde hair sat comfortably on an odd little cube just behind her. She was dressed in ragged clothing. Her hair was bedraggled, with charms tied in it, her makeup heavy, and she wore a simple gold ring on her finger. She smiled at Mystery like a child with a secret. Mystery frowned. She was certain she had been alone.

"It's harmless now," she continued, raising an eyebrow at Mystery's bewilderment. "The Doctor beat it oh, ages ago. The Great Intelligence," the mysterious woman said, a reminiscent smile flitting across her face. "What an adventure. The Doctor and Clara, together at last. And then she died," she added, her expression changing from pleased to faintly unhappy in the blink of an eye. "But it's alright now. She's alive again. The Impossible Girl…" She was smiling again. "But not so impossible as you, _Mystery."_ Her voice hissed slightly over the name.

Finding her voice at last, Mystery asked, "Who… Who are you? How did you get here?"

The woman arched her brow. "What? Don't you recognize me?"

Mystery shook her head, her mouth dry. She got the sense that no matter how friendly this… being… might seem, it was not to be trifled with.

"Oh, you poor dear thing. You think you know so much, and yet you know so very little." She got to her feet in one smooth motion, striding softly over to where Mystery stood, pressed against the pillar. "I chose this form specifically for the Doctor, you know. I was his everything, once. Not so long ago. I'd hoped he might have told you about me."

She was very close to Mystery now, so close that Mystery could see every gold fleck in her hazel eyes. "In other times, this form was named 'Rose Tyler'. But like this, I'm called…" Her eyes shone gold. " _Bad Wolf."_

"Bad Wolf?" Mystery repeated blankly. "Who?"

The woman sighed, disappointed. "I'm the visual interface for the Moment."

"The Moment?" Mystery was beginning to feel a bit like a trained parrot, but she hardly knew what to say.

"Also known as the Galaxy Eater, but that's just for formal occasions." The Moment winked and grinned, but Mystery didn't get the joke. "Created by the Time Lords, centuries upon centuries ago. I've seen it all."

"So what is this… Moment?" she asked.

"Oh, the most powerful weapon in all of creation," she answered airily, tossing her hair. "Also the most dangerous, but I don't let it get to me."

"You? You're the weapon?"

"Only the interface," Bad Wolf replied. "That's the actual Moment." She pointed towards the squat little box she'd been sitting on before. Mystery went over to examine it, stepping carefully around this strange blonde woman.

"Lots of lovely gears and things, don't you think?" the Moment asked. "But not very impressive, as a whole. That's why they've got me." She smiled sweetly at Mystery, who abandoned the box and turned her attention back to her. "I make an excellent first impression."

"So what are you exactly?" Mystery asked, looking closely at her companion. She seemed real, with nothing extraordinary about her, but Mystery had not forgotten her glowing eyes, nor how she had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"I'm the interface," the Moment repeated. "The help screen, if you like."

"But you're talking," Mystery said, puzzled. "You're, you're thinking, and talking, and reacting, like it's almost a real conversation."

" _Almost_ a real conversation? I'm hurt." The strange woman affected an air of injured dignity. "I thought we were getting on quite well."

"That's it." Mystery stalked off, deeper into the piled mementos.

"Annoyed by a little box, are we?"

She spun on the spot to find the Moment reclining in a large armchair. The dust on the chair was undisturbed. She smiled up at the exasperated Mystery.

"Oh, don't worry, you're in good company," she added, now examining her jet-black nails. "I frustrated the Doctor endlessly."

"You know the Doctor?" Mystery asked. The Moment merely raised an eyebrow. "Listen," she said sharply, snapping her fingers under the other woman's nose. "I'm alone, I've no idea where I am, and I'd like to find my friends and be on my way. I do not want to be continually asking questions. So could you, just once, try to be helpful?"

The Moment blinked up at her, a slow smile spreading across her face. "You'll do," she said decidedly. "Yes, I think you'll do quite nicely."

Before Mystery could ask what she meant, she stood up and crossed her arms. "Yes, I know the Doctor, I've known him for centuries. I've been in his head, just like I've been in yours. Although you seem to have a fair amount missing, haven't you?"

She took Mystery's chin in her hand and turned her head from side to side. Her hand was icy cold. "Gap in your memories, hmm? Yes, I see. How… unfortunate."

She released Mystery, who staggered back, rubbing her chin to warm it.

"You can't run away, you know," she added, watching Mystery through her lashes. "The TARDIS brought you here, with a little help from me. We get on well, you know. Two sentient machines, created by the Time Lords, yet so underappreciated."

"You're friends with the TARDIS. Why am I not surprised?" Mystery grumbled.

"When the Doctor put me here, oh, centuries ago, she and I started chatting a bit. I taught her a few things. He'd just used me to save his planet. The first time, anyway. He doesn't remember me right now," she added, suddenly sorrowful. "And he won't, not for years yet. He might never. It hurts, not being remembered. I wonder which is worse, being forgotten…" She looked directly at Mystery. "Or forgetting?"

Mystery recoiled. "What do you want?" she asked, gasping. "How can you talk to me?"

Bad Wolf raised an eyebrow. "I'm the most powerful weapon that's ever existed," she said simply. "I'm not for just anyone to use, and I'm not to be used lightly. Whatever you want me for, you'd better have thought it through. You'd better be absolutely sure that what you're doing is right. And just in case you're not…" She shrugged.

"You're a conscience," Mystery breathed. "The best guard in the universe, so only the most convinced people can use it."

"Or the maddest." The Moment stared at her, eyes faintly gold again. "Which do you think the Doctor was?"

Mystery had no answer.

"Both," Bad Wolf told her, with another secretive smile. Mystery was beginning to find that smile highly annoying.

"But enough about me," she said, walking in a slow circle around Mystery, who stood stock-still. " _You_ are ever so much more interesting."

"Am I?" Mystery asked, her guard up.

"Oh yes. So _very_ interesting. An impossible genetic makeup, knowledge of Gallifreyan, and no idea who you are." Mystery jerked slightly. Bad Wolf laughed softly from behind her. "Touched a nerve, have I? How dreadful of me. I really must stop."

"Why am I here?" Mystery asked through gritted teeth. "You said the TARDIS brought me here. Why?"

"I wanted to meet you," the Moment said simply. "And so did the TARDIS, but it's a bit harder for her. After all, she did have a hand in making you. Indirectly, of course. And you've become so very important to him. And because you're curious."

"What makes you say that?"

"Aren't you?" Mystery said nothing. "I can see your mind, Mystery. I know what you want, know what you wish you knew. Doesn't it burn you, not knowing?" she pressed, eyes shining gold again. "Doesn't it just make you go mad? When you look at people, ordinary people, people who know all there is to know about themselves, who they are, where they came from?"

Mystery kept quiet. Perhaps, if she thought about it, the Moment might be right. It never left her, the missing pieces. They nagged at her, bothering her like a loose tooth.

"You're not convinced," the Moment said, looking at her intently. "Perhaps a simple test? The door is right over there." She pointed across the room, and sure enough, Mystery could see a small door set into the opposite wall. It was even slightly open - she could tell nothing would keep her from getting out.

"You're free to walk out at any time," she continued. "There's your choice: you can either go back to the Doctor - he's on his way, you know. The time is running out. Or you can walk with me." Without waiting for a response, the Moment turned on her heel and strolled off, her boots clacking on the metal floor.

Mystery hesitated, looking at the door, but there had never really been any question. Bad Wolf smiled as Mystery fell in step beside her.

"I thought as much. Come, I want to show you something." She led Mystery further, navigating the mess perfectly. Mystery wondered just how long she'd been here. "Ah. Here we are."

Mystery stepped forward, peering into the semidarkness. Leaning against the wall was a long metal platform, somehow familiar. It didn't click until she saw the puddle of orange goop on the floor.

"That's- That's what we flew out of the Dalek compound on," she whispered. "But why-"

"This room is full of memories, mementos of the Doctor's travels with Clara. His Impossible Girl. Relics of their adventures together, of happy times spent with people he loves. Why do you think it's there?"

Mystery said nothing. Her eyes filled with tears as she stepped closer. She ran a hand over a pile of fabric. "The clothes I was wearing when I first came…He kept them?"

"Mementos, Mystery," Bad Wolf whispered. "Of course he kept them. Look." She pointed to a stone wing, broken off and rescued, Mystery saw, from the ruins of an English church. "Memories. And there's other things, too. See?" She rested a hand on a small wicker crib, with a starry mobile hanging over it. Mystery frowned.

"What's that?" she asked, puzzled. "I've never seen it before."

"Certainly you have," the Moment responded. "It's from your past. Or maybe your future, I get them all mixed up."

"Why are you showing me this?" Mystery asked softly, staring around at the collection.

"To encourage you," she replied. "Or possibly to discourage you, depending on what you're made of. You've got a lot coming for you, you know," she added, hazel eyes boring into Mystery's dark ones. "Big days ahead, though perhaps not as many as you'd like. But you will have a role to play, so very important. She's been using you for years, and you never knew. Trying just to be appreciated. Trying to do what's best for her people." She shrugged. "I sympathize. They are my creators, after all. Perhaps that's why you're here at all."

"She? Who's she?" Mystery demanded, but there was a flash of golden light and the mysterious Bad Wolf was gone. In her place was a thick brown book, bound in what looked like leather, with gold enamel. Mystery picked it up, the ancient pages crackling at her touch, and brushed off the cover to better see the title.

"The History of the Time War," she murmured. With hardly a second thought, she opened the book and began to read.

The massive book painted a vivid picture, one of terror, bloodshed, and neverending pain. It told of the Dalek forces wreaking havoc, told of the High Council of Gallifrey in their desperate attempts to save their planet, of the Time Lord forces seeking out and destroying any Dalek they could. It detailed the fall of Arcadia, the last great city of Gallifrey. And through it all rose one man, over and over again. A man who called himself the Doctor, though it seemed no name could be further from the truth. Her eyes widened as she read one of the universe's greatest secrets.

"His name," she whispered, almost in awe. "The Doctor's name. It's-"

"Mystery?"

The Doctor's voice rang through the room. Mystery slammed the book shut, hastily shoving it back where she'd found it. "I'm here," she called. "Over here."

It wasn't long before the Doctor was there, Clara in his wake. "There you are!" he cried, delighted. "I told you I'd find her," he added to Clara, who grinned and gave Mystery a hug.

"Doctor, there was a-" Mystery began, but just as she opened her mouth, the Doctor shifted slightly and she saw Bad Wolf just behind him, finger on lips, shaking her head.

"He can't hear me, can't see me," she murmured. "Not this time. He doesn't even remember me. For once, it's not you that's forgotten."

"There was a what?" the Doctor asked, looking at her quizzically. "What did you see?" Belatedly, Mystery realized she had lapsed into silence, staring over his shoulder.

"Er… There was a… A metal man!" she finished, improvising as fast as she could. "Right over there, by a chessboard!"

"A metal man by a chessboard… Not a Cyberman?" Clara asked, glancing at the Doctor suspiciously. "Show me." Mystery gladly led her back, hoping she remembered the way. The Doctor stayed behind.

"Coming, Doctor?" Mystery called. He shook his head.

"In a moment," he answered. "Just, er, checking up on something." Slowly, he reached for the ancient book, touching the cover softly.

"No dust," he murmured, picking it up and turning it around and around in his hands. "No dust. Which means…"

"Doctor?" called Clara. "Why've you kept that Cyberman from the moon?"

"Because it was clever," he yelled back. "And it wasn't the moon!"

"And what… Is that a portrait of me? Doctor!"

He shook his head, smiling slightly, but his hand shook as he carefully replaced the book on its shelf. As he walked over to join the others, he was smiling, but his head was pounding with one thought:

 _She knows._

* * *

 **A.N: Hello! Sorry this is so long, it kind of got away from me. But that's okay. I do hope you enjoyed it. The Moment! Bad Wolf! Major spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen the 50th special, I guess, but it's been two years. Come on, people. Anyway, I have finally fixed the poll I mentioned before, so go make use of the democratic process and let your voice be heard! Also a good way to do that is by leaving a review... Which you all know that I love :) Thanks all for reading!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	23. The Next Adventure

"You know what I love about time travelers?" Clara asked, sipping her tea.

They were back in the main room of the TARDIS - it had been heartily agreed everyone needed a break. Mystery glanced up at her from her spot on the floor.

"Okay, I'll bite," she said, marking her place in her book. "What?"

"They can't tell 'When I was your age' stories," Clara answered. "Because they've seen everything. And if they don't like something, they just pop off to another time and there you go."

"Oh, come on now," the Doctor objected, looking up from his card castle. "That's not quite fair. Time Lords have problems too, you know. I didn't start traveling the moment I was born."

"Well, yes," Clara said dismissively, "But you're a developed society. You've got some of the most powerful technology there's ever been!"

Mystery swallowed hard, thinking of the little box and the mysterious woman hidden in the depths of the TARDIS.

"Yeah, well you lot've got technology too, and you're still complaining!" the Doctor retorted. "I'll have you know, when I was eight years old, I was made to stare into the Untempered Schism!"

He looked at the two women, anticipating a reaction. They stared back blankly, then glanced at each other.

"Untempered Schism," mused Clara, drumming her fingers on the railing. "Can't say I've heard of it."

"I feel as though I ought to be impressed, though," Mystery added helpfully. The Doctor cast them both a baleful stare.

"It's a gap in the fabric of reality through which could be seen the whole of the vortex," he told them. "All that was, all that is, all that could be, pouring into your mind at once. It's terrifying."

"Why?" Mystery asked, aghast. The Doctor shrugged.

"It's part of being a Time Lord. Initiation. You have to earn it, you know. All of this." He waved a hand at the TARDIS around him, knocking down his card castle in the process. He shook his head mournfully, gathering up the cards as he spoke.

"People react differently, you know," he continued quietly, looking rather as though this was a subject he hadn't meant to bring up. "You stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power of time and space, just a child. Some would be inspired, some would run away, and some would go mad."

"And which were you?" Clara asked softly. She had a feeling she knew the answer.

The Doctor glanced sideways at her. "Oh, the ones that ran away." He shrugged, smiling slightly. "I never really stopped."

Clara and Mystery sat silent, unsure of what to say. The Doctor looked sadly at his ruined castle, then began to build it again.

"I had this friend, though," he said, carefully leaning two cards up against each other. "My best friend, really. He was with me in the academy."

"So he looked into this Untempered Schism thing too?" Mystery asked. "What happened to him?"

"Oh, he went mad," the Doctor said. "It drove him insane. They raised him to be a weapon," he added sadly.

"A weapon," Clara repeated. "Against what?"

"Well, a weapon in the Time War," he answered carefully. "But in the end, I guess that meant against me. He's been trying to kill me for centuries."

"And where is he now?" Mystery asked softly.

"He died," came the answer. "Years ago. In my arms, too. And good riddance." He smiled slightly, but Mystery could tell he still missed this mysterious friend.

"Don't despair, Doctor," said a quiet voice, and Mystery's head snapped up. There stood Bad Wolf, one hand on the Doctor's shoulder, a tender look on her face. The Doctor didn't appear to notice her, and neither did Clara.

"Your friend is still out there, somewhere. And you," she added, looking at Mystery, "might be meeting this friend very soon. No, shh," she said, placing a finger on her lips as Mystery opened her mouth. "They mustn't know I'm here. And anyway, would they believe you?" She raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. Mystery blinked and she was gone.

"Mystery?" Clara asked, concerned. "You alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"Oh - Oh, no, it was nothing," Mystery said hastily. "Just, er, lost in thought." She smiled up at Clara, who seemed skeptical, but accepted her explanation without comment.

"So, then!' exclaimed the Doctor, abandoning his card castle. Mystery could sense he was eager to change the subject, and she wasn't at all upset about it. "Where to next?"

"Somewhere spectacular, remember?" Mystery reminded him. "Time travel. I want to see."

"Right you are," he said, ruffling her hair and dashing to the controls. "I've had some ideas about that," he added, pulling a lever. "How do you feel about-"

 _Boom._

The entire room lurched, spilling Clara's tea everywhere and sending the Doctor flying.

"What was that?" Mystery cried, shielding her book from the worst of the tea and scrambling to her feet.

"We've hit something," the Doctor grunted, pulling himself off the floor and rubbing his chin.

"Hit something?" Clara repeated incredulously. "How can we have hit something? We're floating in deep space!"

"Some kind of force field," he answered, reading from one of the screens. "But the TARDIS should have blocked it out…"

"Doctor," Mystery said slowly, "you'd better come look at this." The Doctor and Clara hurried to the open door where Mystery stood looking out. "Who needs sensors when you can just look outside?"

Clara peered outside. She could see millions and millions of stars, as far as the eye can see, and even a comet, but nothing unusual.

"What-" she began, but then as the TARDIS slowly rotated, she caught her breath. An extremely tall, cylindrical ship hovered in the sky, green light pulsing from its sides. It was hard to judge size while in space, but Clara was sure it was enormous.

"That's the fourth one I've seen like it," Mystery said quietly. "All with that same light."

"Doctor, what are they?" Clara asked. "Do you recognize them?"

"Judoon ships," the Doctor murmured. "Four of them. But why would they be here? I haven't done anything." He hesitated. "Well, recently."

"What do you mean?"

"The Judoon are mercenaries," he explained. "Guns for hire. Logical, but stupid. They respect the law above all else, even the laws of other cultures."

"Bet you don't relate to them much," Mystery quipped. Clara laughed, but the Doctor ignored her completely.

"But they don't have tech like that," he said, indicating the green light pulsing in waves off of each ship. "I've only seen that in one place before."

"Doctor, explain whatever it is that you know or so help me I will jump out there and ask them myself," Clara snapped. The Doctor grinned at her.

"Ever heard of the Shadow Proclamation?" he asked. The other two shook their heads. "Didn't think so," he muttered. "You lot never seem to know anything. Outer space police, basically. Upholding galactic law for centuries."

"Okay?" Clara asked, prompting him on. "So how do you know it's them?"

"Green interdimensional crystals," he said, pointing to the ships. "Used by the Shadow Proclamation for capture and transport."

"So which one are we, then?" Mystery asked. "Capture or transport?"

"Good question." The Doctor stuck his head out the door. "Oi, you! In the spaceships! What do you want?"

"Doctor, I hardly think-" Clara said, but very shortly, an answered boomed back at them.

"Blo mo co ka jo." The voice was deep and guttural, definitely not human. "Ro ma do no. Sro ho ga to fo."

"What are they saying?" Clara whispered. The Doctor dashed to the console.

"That's the Judoon, alright. Should have a translation any second," he said. "It has to-"

"Do not attempt to resist capture," Mystery said suddenly. "The Shadow Proclamation commands your appearance before the Shadow Architect. Lower your shields and allow yourself to be transported."

"-process…" the Doctor finished, staring at Mystery. Moments later, her exact words popped up on the TARDIS's screen. "How did you do that?"

Mystery shrugged, looking very uncomfortable. "I don't know," she said. "It was just there. Their language, it was just there, in my head."

"Hmm." The Doctor stepped closer, gently grabbing her chin and turning her head from side to side. Mystery shuddered - it reminded her too much of the touch of the Moment, who had done exactly the same thing to her mere hours before. He let go quickly, but continued to stare deep into her eyes. Mystery felt as though he was staring into her soul, trying to unravel the puzzle she held, the puzzle she was.

"Sro ho ga to fo!" the voice repeated, its tone more insistent.

"So what do we do?" Clara asked. The Doctor shut the TARDIS door firmly.

"Just what they say," he answered. "If I'm going to be arrested, I like to know what for. It's time we pay a visit to the Shadow Proclamation."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello all! Sorry I've been away so long, but I'm back now with another chapter for you! So, our second adventure is complete, and now we've started off stage three with a bang, or rather, a boom. I know not a ton happened in this chapter, but I can promise a good deal of action and feels coming, so don't go away! I haven't much to say other than go vote in the poll and, as always, leave a review for me! Thank you all, loves, and allons-y!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	24. The Doctor Arrested

The TARDIS landed with a thud, knocking all three occupants off their feet. The Doctor sniffed.

"You wouldn't see me landing something like that," he muttered. He had been quite miffed when the Judoon warriors had not allowed him to fly. "Teleports are so messy."

"Er, Doctor?" Mystery said, grinning. "This is how it is every time you land."

Clara laughed. "She's right, you know," she told him, ignoring the offended look on the Time Lord's face. "Every time."

"Like you could do any better," he grumbled. Clara and Mystery could see him forcing himself not to touch the controls.

"Do you have to pass a test?" Mystery asked him. "To fly a TARDIS, do you have to pass a test?"

The Doctor looked at her suspiciously, but she seemed genuinely curious. "Yes," he said shortly. "And I failed."

Clara and Mystery burst into peals of laughter. The Doctor huffed and turned his back on them. "This is why I travel alone," he muttered, but he was hiding a smile.

 _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

There came four thundering knocks on the TARDIS door. The Doctor blanched slightly. "He will knock four times…" he whispered.

"What did you say?" Clara asked, staring at him. He looked back at her, blinking away whatever shadows were lurking in his eyes.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, to his feet. "Just old memories. Now come on," he said, smiling again. "Someone wants to see us." He went to the door, Clara and Mystery close behind him.

The Doctor pulled the door open carefully, peering out. They were in what looked like a sort of warehouse, with workers of various species busily working everywhere. Gurneys were being shuttled back and forth, bearing creatures of all shapes and sizes, often into a room marked 'Relocation Centre'. Mystery was reminded unpleasantly of the Dalek compound where she'd had her first (that she remembered) adventure. Everything was a sterile white, like a hospital.

Several Judoon were standing around the TARDIS, guns at the ready. One of these had a massive gloved hand raised to knock again.

Clara and Mystery recoiled. "You didn't mention they were part rhino," Clara hissed.

"Is it important?" the Doctor whispered back.

"Exit your ship with your hands in the air," it rumbled. The Doctor shrugged and stepped out, his hands held high. Mystery and Clara followed, looking around nervously.

"Oh, you've redecorated!" exclaimed the Doctor, shielding his eyes from the glaring white light. He made a face. "I don't like it."

 _Boom._ A sound echoed around the room like a massive switch being thrown, and three spotlights appeared, one each on the three travelers. Clara and Mystery looked about in confusion, but the Doctor cursed.

"Holding cells," he muttered. "I haven't seen these since that Dalek spaceship… Have they got Dalek technology now?" He glanced back at the TARDIS and cursed again. The door was standing slightly open - they hadn't had a chance to close it, and now it was too late.

"Holding cells?" Mystery asked. She held out her hand, but yanked it back quickly when it met some kind of resistance. "It stung me!" she cried, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

"Don't move," the Doctor called. "They're force fields of some kind. They shouldn't have these at all…" He snapped his fingers experimentally, but the doors didn't react. "I really don't like what they've done with the place."

"You wouldn't," came a woman's voice. The Doctor spun around to see a very old woman entering the room, flanked by half a dozen Judoon. She was a striking figure - rail-thin, with frazzled white hair, pale skin, and red eyes. She was dressed all in black, a sharp contrast. "You never do."

"Ah, hello!" the Doctor said brightly, bowing with a flourish. "Nice to see you again. How long has it been?"

"You have a new face," the woman commented dryly. "So young. What are you trying to prove, Doctor?"

"Prove? Me? Oh, you know, regeneration, it's a lottery," he answered her easily, flashing her a grin.

"Doctor?" Clara whispered, glancing sideways at the threatening Judoon figures still fixated on them. "Who's your friend?"

The woman snapped her attention to Clara, who quailed under her stare. "I am the Shadow Architect," she said grandly. "Leader of the Shadow Proclamation, and your judge and jury."

"Oh, are we on trial?" the Doctor asked. "You should have told me, I'd have dressed up."

The Shadow Architect gave him a withering stare. "We have not _redecorated_ , as you so put it," she said abruptly. "This is our genetic containment facility. For dangerous hybrids and those who do not belong or are far from home." Her red eyes were piercing in their examination of him. "Perhaps you understand now why you are here?"

The Doctor stared back at her, eyes unreadable. "No," he said slowly. "Can't say that I do."

"Then I will put it formally." The Architect cleared her throat slightly. "As the leader of the Shadow Proclamation, voice of galactic law, I charge you with illegal genetic recombination, as forbidden by Article 143 Clause 7. This clause states that no organism shall be created with over five different species genetic patterns without the express permission of the Shadow Proclamation. You, Doctor, have been found to be in violation of this. Have you anything to say?"

He blinked. "Well," he said. "I was not expecting this. With all due respect, ma'am, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

The Architect arched one long thin brow. "Are you quite certain of that, Doctor?"

"Absolutely," he replied, spinning around to face his companions. "We haven't got a single thing that-" His eyes fell on Mystery and he froze. "Oh. Oh."

Mystery paled. "Doctor?" she asked uncertainly. "Doctor, what's she talking about?"

"Mystery, don't worry" the Doctor said quietly, not taking his eyes off her. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise you."

"Doctor, it is very like you to make promises you can't keep, is it not?" He turned back to her, eyes blazing. She met his glare with an icy one of her own.

"Our scans registered illegal recombination activity residue on your ship," the pale woman continued coldly. "And this creature," she nodded to Mystery, "has been found in your possession. By the galactic law, she must be destroyed." She cast him an almost pitying glance. "We monitor all of time and space, Doctor. How did you think you could get by?"

"No," he whispered, then continued, growing in volume. "No no no no, you've made a tremendous mistake." He spun about, striding up to the very edge of his cell and staring into the Architect's hard red eyes. "I'm willing to ignore that you think I am guilty. I, who have been a champion of law and order for centuries, I'm willing to let that go. I'll also forget that your scanners invaded my TARDIS, my own property-"

"Which you stole," Clara interjected.

"Borrowed!" he shot back. "And also not helping. She's mine and you scanned her, which shouldn't even be possible, only Gallifreyans should be able to do that, but I'll forget that too."

He paused and stepped even closer, his voice dropping dangerously low. Sparks from the force field danced in his eyes. "But what I won't forget," he told her, "I won't forget how you called my friend, this brilliant, beautiful, wonderful person, a _creature._ You called her my _possession._ How, how did you ever think that?" He pulled back, shaking his head slightly. "As if I could own her. Mystery is a person, Madame Architect."

"Mystery," the Shadow Architect repeated. "Is that what you've named her?"

"She named herself," the Doctor told her. "Because she is a living, breathing, thinking, feeling person, and I _will not_ let her be destroyed."

"That is not your choice, Doctor," the Architect said. "She was created by you or under your care. Do you deny it?"

"Yes!" said the Doctor emphatically. "Yes, I do deny it."

"Then where did she come from?" she persisted. "How did she come to be? How did you find her? How is it that you look upon her as a friend?"

"I…" The Doctor was at a loss for words. "I don't know. She just...appeared. In my TARDIS, in the middle of a flight. Teleport, I suppose."

"A likely story." The Architect walked smoothly to a screen set into the wall and pulled up some data. It was too far for any of them to read. "The Shadow Proclamation clearly prohibits more than five species combinations in one organism. Your… friend… has over a thousand genetic sets. This shouldn't be possible, Doctor. This isn't possible." She walked over to where Mystery was trapped, examining her like an animal on display in a cage. "And yet here she is."

"Over a thousand?" The Doctor was in shock. "What...How?"

"That's precisely what we'd like to know," she answered coolly. "And you will tell us, Doctor."

"I can't tell you what I don't know!"

The Architect regarded him appraisingly for a moment, then returned to her screen.

"Her genes contain the genetic encryptions for almost every known species of sentient being: Sontaran, Dalek, Nestene, Zygon, Gelth, Sycorax, Raxacoricofallapatorian, Saturnynians, Tivolis, Kahler, Tritovore, Graske, Jagrafess, Weeping Angels, Ood, Judoon, Racnoss, Pyroviles, Hath, Atraxi, Star Whales, everything. And the three most prominent? Perhaps you'd like to guess."

The Doctor shook his head, speechless.

"Human, Time Lord... and TARDIS," she told him. "Now tell me you know nothing."

"TARDIS? But…" He trailed off, stunned. "There's only ever been one being like that, one ever. And I married her. How is this possible?" He subsided into unintelligible mutterings, pacing the confines of his light prison.

Mystery was rapidly going into shock. How could this be? How could she belong to species she'd never even heard. _Do I belong to anything?_ she wondered. _Or am I alone?_

"Why does it matter?" Clara spat. "She's not doing any harm!"

"She is an unknown." The Architect turned her piercing red stare on Clara. "A missing variable. Genetic experiments in the past have created some of the most dangerous races ever to live. The Daleks are one such example." She glanced at Mystery, who stood mute and trembling in her cell of light. "She is a danger."

"So you would destroy her?" the Doctor snapped. "Just because you can't understand her? Because you've never seen anything like her? That's not _law,_ Madame Architect. That's _prevention of progress._ That's refusing to accept change, on the off chance that it might hurt you. That's the beauty of it - there's always something more to strive for, something else, something better. What if this is it?"

"She cannot be allowed to roam unchecked," the Architect told him, still perfectly composed.

"Then give her to me," he said, almost desperately. "I'll watch her, I'll keep her in check."

"You are not to be trusted, Doctor," she said firmly. "A champion of law and order, yes, but if anything, you need someone to watch you."

"You're already doing that, aren't you?" he retorted. "Sticking your nose in where it isn't wanted." He pulled back, getting himself under control. "Oh look," he said, his voice contained and almost breathless. "I'm angry. I'm really not sure what's going to happen now."

"We do not fear your anger, Doctor," the Architect said, lifting her chin slightly. "Good men have too many rules, always holding them back. And we have laws as well, laws that not even you can break without repercussions."

"Good men don't need rules," the Doctor said, and there was danger in every syllable. "Today is not the day to find out why I have so many."

"No," she said, after a pause. "I think you are correct. But today is the day for you to find out what happens when rules are broken." She turned to the Judoon standing at attention. "Give her to the acolytes," she told them. "The newest one, perhaps. She seems to enjoy this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" the Doctor demanded as the Judoon marched to Mystery's prison, surrounding her. "What are you doing to her?" One of the Judoon raised its gun, and leveled it at Mystery through the field.

"Doctor!" she cried. "Doctor, help, Doctor please-" But the Judoon fired, and she sank to the ground.

"What have you done?" he roared, pounding on the barrier that kept him away. "What have you done to her?"

"Merely a tranquilizing dart," the Architect told him as two white-garbed workers shut off the force field and loaded the girl's limp body onto a gurney. "She is unharmed for now."

"Oh, thank God," Clara cried, sinking to the floor in relief. The Doctor, however, remained tense, waiting.

"Unharmed for now," he repeated. "So what's going to happen?"

"We still need to know how she came to be," the Architect told him. "What she is. How you created her."

"Tell me what you're going to do to her," he growled. "Now."

"She will be killed," she said, as if merely informing him of the weather. "The law is hard and unyielding, but it is the law."

Clara gasped, but the Doctor went on. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"She will be tortured," came the unfeeling answer. "Until we know all we need to know, until you tell us everything. And you, Doctor, will watch."

* * *

 **A.N: Yowza, that was intense. Wow. I need to go breathe for a bit, I think. So! What do you think? If I've done my job right you'll be reeling right now, and if not, I hope at least a little shocked. Any new theories? Explanations for who this girl could possibly be? I know it seems implausible, but I promise you, all will make sense in time. Very soon, I expect. But in the meantime, there's this. I do hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think! Also remember I've still got that poll up :) Much love to you all!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	25. Miss Me Missy

Mystery smiled and tilted her head back, letting the sun warm her face. She opened her eyes and stared up at the clear blue sky, dotted with puffy clouds.

"That one looks like a rabbit," came Clara's voice. "Don't you think?"

Mystery rolled over, grass tickling her skin, and saw Clara and the Doctor sitting on a picnic blanket, watching the clouds. The Doctor frowned.

"I don't see it," he said. Clara laughed, and the sound filled Mystery with contentment.

"What do you think, Mystery?" she asked, pointing up at the sky. "That one there."

"Hmm." She looked up, finding the cloud in question. "I think it's a rhino. See the horn?" She blinked and paused for a moment. For some reason the thought made her uneasy. She shook it off - the day was too nice to worry.

"No," Clara said consideringly, "those are the ears. Definitely the ears."

"I still don't see it," the Doctor told them. Mystery shook her head, grinning.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," she said, flopping back on the grass.

The Doctor smiled happily. "Isn't this nice," he said to the sky. "A family picnic, of sorts."

"It's good enough for me," Mystery said with a contented sigh. Then she stiffened. "Is there a storm coming?" she asked, propping herself up on an elbow. "I'm smelling ozone."

The Doctor sat up, sniffing the air. "I don't smell a thing," he said easily. "Just grass."

"Besides," Clara pointed out. "There's hardly any clouds."

But this wasn't quite true anymore, Mystery saw. Those few clouds were quickly turning into a roiling white smoke that somehow seemed familiar. She moved slightly and got a sharp shock, static electricity that jolted her body.

"Ow!" she cried, looking down at herself.

"Mystery?" Clara asked, concerned. Her voice sounded flat, dampened. Mystery looked up and saw that this white fog was around her, obscuring her friends from view. "Mystery, no, don't go!"

"Mystery, stay with me!" the Doctor called, sounding frantic. "Come on, you can do it, stay with me!"

"I'm trying!" Mystery told him, then screamed as another shock coursed through her. "Doctor, help, I don't want to go!"

The fog thickened, blinding her. Sparks popped and fizzed around her, zapping her painfully with every touch. She covered her eyes, trying to claw her way back towards her friends. She tripped and fell forward, flailing wildly for something to break her fall. She plummeted down and down, into blackness.

* * *

Mystery opened her eyes with a gasp to a room ringing with the echoes of her screams. She tried to sit upright, but something was holding her back: metal restraints across her forehead, chest, wrists, and ankles.

"Good morning, dearie!" A voice rang out across the room, making Mystery wince. It was a woman's voice, Scottish and lilting. "Electricity's a nasty wake-up call, I know, but it's so much more rewarding when you can feel it." She seemed to be delighted at the thought. "Isn't it, _Mystery?"_

Mystery shuddered at the sound of her name. She tried to turn her head, but the restraints held her back. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice raw. "Where am I?"

"Hmm. Let's do the easy one first, shall we? You're still at the Shadow Proclamation. Or don't you remember? I suppose tranquilizers and near-death experiences can muddle some things, can't they? And you don't exactly have the sharpest memory." She giggled. The sound sent chills down Mystery's spine.

"I'll even tell you why you're here," the woman continued. Mystery heard footsteps coming around behind her, but still could not catch a glimpse of her tormentor. "A bonus, just for you. Ask two, get one free. You're here so I can torture you," she said happily. "Torture you until the Doctor-" she lingered over the name, savoring it- "tells them everything they want to know. And then I'm going to kill you. Won't that be fun?"

Mystery thrashed, writhing against her bonds, but the metal would not give. Over and over she threw herself against the metal table, hoping at least to pass out and avoid whatever was coming.

"Now, now," the woman said chidingly. "Mustn't fuss. See, I've got this lovely little lever that's ever so easy to press. So if my hand slips…"

Mystery screamed again as the metal cuffs hummed, crackling electricity arching into her body and targeting every nerve. It was pain like she'd never felt before, but she knew it would only get worse. It seemed to go on for millenia. When at last it ended, she fell back against the table, gasping.

"There now," came the strange woman's voice, smooth as honey. "See? Everything's easier when you play nice. I only hope the Doctor knows that too."

"You still haven't answered my question," Mystery croaked. "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

"You? Oh, nothing," she informed her. "Nothing at all. You are simply a pawn, a tool to get to the Doctor. He so values his little friends." Mystery could almost hear her smiling. "As for the Doctor and I, well… We go way back."

"Way back? You mean… You're friends?" Mystery was having a hard time imaging the Doctor, her silly, happy, lovable Doctor, ever being friends with a woman like this.

"Of course we're friends!"

"Since when?"

"Since always," the woman informed her. "Since the Cloister Wars. Since the night he stole the moon and the President's wife. Since he was a little girl. One of those was a lie. Can you guess which one?"

Mystery shook her head - or tried to. This woman was insane. Surely there was no way the Doctor could befriend her. But suddenly, the Doctor's voice popped into her head, echoing from earlier that day. _I had this friend, though. My best friend, really...he went mad._ Mystery frowned. He?

"As for who I am, well. I've had so many names over the years, but I think you can call me…" A woman's face suddenly appeared in Mystery's field of vision, smiling cruelly. " _Missy._ Hello, my dear."

"Missy…" Mystery frowned. "But the Doctor said his best friend was a man."

"Oh, aren't you cute." Missy pinched the cheeks of the prone girl before her. Mystery grimaced and tried to wriggle away, but there was nowhere to go. "So old-fashioned. And so _helpless."_ She flicked her face with one manicured nail. "I love it."

The woman - Missy - reached down and unlocked Mystery's head brace. "I used to be a man," she told her, tossing the metal aside with a clang. "Now I'm a woman, and perfectly happy with it. Much sexier this way." She winked at Mystery.

"You used-" Mystery was having trouble processing all of this. "But the Doctor said you died. In his arms. How can you be here?"

"Oh, I don't let a little thing like death stop me," Missy said breezily. "He never does either. Surely you ought to have figured out at least that much by now."

"Alright," said Mystery, choosing to accept now and think later. "So you're a Time Lord, then."

"Of course I am. What else would I be, human? Don't be disgusting." Missy sounded genuinely offended. "And it's Time Lady, please. I'm old-fashioned."

"And the Doctor, does he know? That he's not the only one?"

"Not yet," Missy told her conspiratorially. "But he will. Oh, yes he will. I've made plans… Yes, he'll see me very soon."

"So then-"

"Enough questions!" Missy said sharply, pulling down on the lever. "You're getting dull, and I do so hate to be bored. Just another way the Doctor and I are meant to be, hmm?"

She smiled at Mystery, sickly sweet. Mystery saw her face through a haze of pain. She tasted blood - she must have bit her tongue.

"I'm supposed to be torturing you," she said over Mystery's screams, "and here I've been letting you ask all the questions! Because I've got questions for you too," she continued, walking over to where Mystery was thrashing and placing her mouth very close to Mystery's ear. "Very important questions, and you'll answer me, too. See, that's the thing about pain," she mused, walking slowly back to her lever and laying a gentle hand on it. "It brings you back to what you are."

She pulled the lever, cutting off the electricity and leaving Mystery groaning. "What do you mean?" she gasped, almost choking on the words. She could smell something burning, and guessed it was her hair. _Don't think about it,_ she ordered herself. _The Doctor will save you, he always does. He always does. Just hold on._

"It all comes down to instincts," Missy informed her. "We're all formed from our instincts, even you. We all fight to avoid pain. You'll do anything, anything at all," she pulled the lever again, "just to _make it stop."_

"What do you want?" Mystery gasped. "Why not just kill me?"

"I work for the Shadow Proclamation," Missy told her. "Their brightest new acolyte. I provided them with all sorts of lovely technology, just to get at the Doctor. And they're using you to get at him as well. But me… I need you for something else."

She shut off the electric current. Mystery closed her eyes, hoping to just black out. "See, I'm lonely," Missy said, as if sitting down for tea and a chat with an old friend. "So terribly lonely since the Doctor hid our planet away. Oh yes," she said at Mystery's exclamation of surprise, "hid, not destroyed. He doesn't know that yet," she whispered. "Won't he be surprised?"

Mystery could well imagine what the Doctor would think if he only knew. She'd seen him sometimes, when he thought no one could see him, when all the sadness in the universe poured into his eyes. Maybe this was why.

"And those Time Lords aren't very happy," Missy continued. "No, not happy at all. The naughty things are making cracks in the universe, all over space and time, trying to get through. Trying to come back, and you how they will? You know what they need?"

Mystery shook her head, then instantly regretted it - the simply movement sent bolts of pain pounding through her skull. She was almost afraid of the answer.

"They need the Doctor's name," Missy said softly. Mystery paled. "I see you know what I mean. Just his name, that's all. 'Silence will fall when the question is asked.' Not any longer. Can't you see what this would mean?" she continued, her subtle voice winding its way into Mystery's pain-shattered brain. "For me, for him? Never alone, never again. He'd have a place, a planet. a people. I'm lonely, Mystery, and so is he. Just tell me his name, and I can end it all."

"Why can't he say it himself?" Mystery asked sluggishly. Missy's face hardened.

"He's afraid," she hissed. "Afraid of what it might mean, afraid of not being the last one. He's committed terrible crimes, child. He's not the white knight you imagine him to be, not at all. But I know him," she continued, her voice soft and persuasive. "I'm his oldest friend in the universe, and I know him better than anyone. Don't you think I should be the one to make this decision?"

"But you're mad," Mystery told her. "He said so, you're insane. He said you keep trying to kill him."

"He keeps trying to kill me!" Missy said, affronted. "We've been at it for ages. It's sort of our texting."

"You are mad," Mystery said decisively. "I won't tell you. Let the Doctor decide."

"Oh, very well, have it your way," Missy said with a sigh. "But remember what I said about pain?" She bent down and whispered in her ear. "You do anything to stop it." She danced over to her lever, humming a waltz. There was a dial set into the wall, marked 'Volts'. As Mystery watched, Missy spun it from green to red, then spun around and looked her directly in the eyes. "I wish I could say I was sorry," she said simply. "But I'm really not." She pulled the lever, and in the moments before she blacked out, Mystery could see white bolts shooting across her vision.

" _What is the Doctor's name?"_

* * *

 **A.N: Again I say: Yowza! I'm kind of on a roll this week. Thank you all for the reviews and messages I got! I've never had such a positive reaction ever, and it definitely made me want to work on this more! So if you want to see another update sooner, you know what to do! I'm pleased to announce we have now passed 6,000 views, so thank you all for that! Also, I've passed the 50,000 word mark, which is amazing. I must say, when I started this, I never imagined it coming this far, or being this popular! (Or this intense) There's a whole lot going on, I know, so just try your best to keep up and I'll (hopefully) get it all explained! Only a few more chapters to go! Thank you sticking around this far, and I will see you at the finish line!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	26. Watch and Learn

" _MYSTERY!"_

The Doctor's hands were red and raw from pounding on his electric enclosure. He scrabbled for his sonic, trying to find some way out, but there was all his scanning yielded nothing.

Clara watched the metal doors swing shut behind the gurney carrying her friend despairingly. _We've been in tough scrapes before,_ she thought, _but this might do it. How do you fight the law?_

The Shadow Architect watched with a smile of ice. "Prepared to spill your secrets yet, Doctor?" she asked mockingly. "No? Perhaps this will convince you."

She nodded to one of the Judoon, who turned to her screen and typed in a few commands. Moments later, the wall above them flickered to life, showing them a life-sized image of an empty white room. They watched as Mystery was wheeled in, limp and unmoving, and saw a white-garbed acolyte moving about her, fastening her down. Then the electricity began.

"I don't know anything!" the Doctor cried desperately. "Please, you have to believe me, I don't know anything about her!"

Clara felt she should look away, but somehow couldn't take her eyes off the writhing girl on the screen before her. Though there was, thankfully, no sound, she felt sure that Mystery was screaming. "Doctor," she said softly, "I think she's waking up."

The Doctor fell to his knees, eyes fixed on the screen. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered. "This is cruelty."

"No, Doctor. It is the law." He hung his head. The Shadow Architect strode over to stand before him. "Look at you, Doctor," she said softly. "On your knees before the law, at long last. How many years has it been? How long on the run from your past?"

"Too long," he answered, his voice hoarse. Clara's eyes widened - he sounded broken. The Doctor was never broken… But here he was.

"Far too long. But you know something, Madam Architect," he stood to his feet, looking right in her red eyes. "I don't intend to stop now. Mystery!" he yelled to the room at large, with no idea whether the poor girl could hear him. "Get your coat!"

Clara glanced up at the screen. Mystery was flailing again. The white-garbed acolyte moved around her, perhaps talking to her.

"Doctor, you are raving," the Shadow Architect said. "There is no way out, no way to get her free. There is nothing you can do."

"Course there isn't," the Doctor said, grinning a challenge at her. "And do you know how many people have said that to me over the years? Hundreds and hundreds, but here I am, still running, still kicking up a fuss, just like always. And today is not the day, no, not for me or my friends."

"There is always an end, Doctor," she told him calmly. "There is always a time where we must face our mistakes, learn from what we were. Time catches up to us all."

"I have got a time machine, Madame Architect," he said, seemingly polite." It's all still going on. For me, it never stops. Liz the First is still waiting in a glade to elope with me. I could help Rose Tyler with her homework. I could go on all of Jack's stag parties in one night." He smiled, but Clara could tell he was fighting back an explosion. She badly wanted to ask who Jack might be, but decided now was maybe not the time. "Time has _never_ laid a glove on me."

The Shadow Architect watched him as he started pacing around his narrow enclosure, her expression guarded.

"I thought it had, once," the Doctor continued conversationally. "Not so long ago, I thought the end had come, that time had 'caught up' to me at last. I thought I was going to die. I almost wanted to."

Onscreen Mystery writhed again. Clara could actually see the bolts of electricity coursing through her body, and she knew the Doctor saw it too, though he didn't let on.

"But you know what?" he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I didn't. It took a time-travelling shape-changing robot powered by miniaturised people and the end of time to stop it, but I didn't. Cleverness, and planning, and a bit of luck, that's all, but I'm here."

He was positively smouldering now, and Clara took an involuntary step backwards. This was bad, she knew. The Doctor was kind and wonderful and amazing, but he was dangerous, too. Clara couldn't count the times she'd been fervently thankful to be on his side. This was a man who controlled time and space itself, who could send armies packing with the mention of his name, and it was an incredible power… but terrifying as well.

"I'm here, Madam Architect," he continued. "And I always will be. Always."

"There are rules, Doctor," the Architect told him fiercely. "And I will maintain them."

The Doctor laughed brightly. "Sorry?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What did you say? Did you mention the rules? Now, bit of advice," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Tell me the truth, if you think you know it, lay down the law, if you're feeling brave, but. Madame Architect, never, _ever,_ tell me the rules!"

The Shadow Architect regarded him for a moment. "Look at you, Doctor," she said softly. "Only moments ago you were on your knees before me. What have you become?"

"Doctor," Clara said urgently, "she's trying to make you angry, she's-" The Doctor cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. She subsided unhappily, watching the scene play out before her.

The pale woman glanced briefly at Clara, then returned her attention to the Doctor, taking in his every move. He stared back at her, eyes burning a challenge at her, a challenge she seemed to accept.

"I don't think you quite appreciate your position, Doctor," she said calmly. "Perhaps you'd like a better reminder?" She stepped to her screen and typed a short command. Seconds later screams filled the room: Mystery's screams.

Clara cringed and looked away, covering her ears, but she could do nothing to block out the sound. It reverberated around the room, filling every corner and blasting into every crevice. The cries of her friend drove her to her knees and broke her heart.

The Doctor stood stock still, almost as if he couldn't hear a thing, but the tightness around his eyes and the whiteness of his knuckles as he clenched his hands into fists betrayed him. He raised one hand and opened it, facing up. His face registered only disinterest at the four rivulets of blood running down his palm.

"Had enough?" the red-eyed woman inquired. She tapped her screen and the room fell silent. Clara breathed a sigh of relief, but her respite was short-lived - Mystery thrashed a moment more, then was eerily still.

"Madame Architect," the Doctor said slowly, not taking his eyes off his bleeding hand, "you have made a mistake. A great, big, whopping mistake."

"Oh?" the Architect looked faintly amused. "What might that be?"

"You see, my friends are very precious to me. My friends have always been the best of me. And now I strongly suspect you've just killed one of them. Take away the good part of me, and what have you got left?"

She remained silent. If possible, she had gone even paler.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I think you know."

The following silence was broken by the clanging of metal doors. Clara glanced over to see a metal gurney being rolled into the room. One limp hand flopped over the side, dangling into space.

"Mystery…" the Doctor whispered. "No… No, you can't…"

"Let them out," the Shadow Architect commanded. One of the Judoon pulled a lever and their holding cells disappeared. Clara dashed to the gurney, the Doctor close on her heels.

"There's no pulse," Clara said desperately, feeling Mystery's wrist. "She's not breathing, either."

The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and scanned Mystery's forehead, then checked the readings. "No brain waves," he said quietly, and those simple words had all the finality in the universe. "She's gone."

"Maybe now you understand the seriousness of the situation," the Architect called. Her voice echoed in the sudden silence. "The law applies to all, even for you."

"Do you understand what you've done?" the Doctor asked her, spinning about and striding over to her. He towered over her. "You have taken a person and used her. As, as a tool, just to get to me. And it's all been for nothing, hasn't it? Because you still don't know anything, not a single thing. And you probably never will, because _I don't know anything._ And now it doesn't matter, does it?" he said simply, turning over his shoulder to stare at his prone friend. "The mystery is gone forever, and you haven't a thing to worry about."

"No, Doctor, that's where you're wrong," the pale leader told him, stepping away. "For where one has been created, so can others come. We must have this information, and we-"

A Judoon stomped over, holding out a small square machine. "Message on the comm, Madame," it grunted. "From _her."_

"Oh?" The Architect plucked the communication device from the Judoon's massive hand and typed in a brisk command. "I see. Dismissed," she said to the rhino soldier before her, who bowed and retreated back into the shadows. "Doctor," she called, beckoning him closer. "How much do you trust your friend?"

"With my life," he replied promptly, although his expression was guarded. "All of them."

"Your life, yes," she said easily. "Is that all?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he asked, stepping closer, but the Architect covered the screen of the device. "Is that all, what does that mean?"

"Your _friend_ died alone and screaming in pain, with no hope of rescue," the Architect said flatly. "You let her down in her very last moments, and she knew it. Would you like to know how I know?"

Clara watched silently, still clutching Mystery's cold hand. The Doctor seemed to be at war with himself, but his curiosity got the best of him.

"Tell me," he ordered. The Shadow Architect raised an eyebrow at his tone, but nodded.

"Take a look." She held out the screen for the Doctor to read.

"Doctor?" Clara called. He had suddenly gone very pale. "Doctor, what is it, what does it say?"

The Doctor released the comm device and walked back to Mystery's gurney. "I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking the hair off her forehead. "I'm so so sorry."

"Doctor!" Clara grabbed his sleeve. "Doctor, tell me!"

He turned his head slowly and looked her in the eyes. "My name," he whispered. "She told them my name."

* * *

 **A.N: Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't kill me. So. Yes. Mystery is dead. The Shadow Proclamation knows the Doctor's name (and Missy as well). Bad bad times. But there is hope, I swear. There is, surprisingly, always hope. I dare not say too much here, you'll have to wait and see, but the ending is coming and it's gonna be a whopper! I love you all dearly, and don't give up on Mystery yet!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	27. The Death of Mystery

Mystery fought her way back to consciousness, then immediately wished she hadn't. Every muscle in her body hurt, and her mouth tasted of blood. She could smell singed hair, and knew she must look a mess. She opened her eyes, then shut them immediately - the white light was blinding. Surprisingly, though, the pain wasn't as bad as she had expected.

"Your brain's shutting down," came Missy's voice, piercing Mystery's eardrums and making her wince. "It's been overstimulated." She shrugged and winked. "I do tend to have that effect on people."

"So I'm not dead, then," Mystery croaked, her voice raw from screaming.

"No, not yet," Missy told her brightly. "Why? Are you in a hurry to get it done?"

 _At this point, I wouldn't mind it,_ Mystery thought. But she had a feeling that Missy wouldn't be kind enough to just end it now.

"Of course you don't," Missy said dismissively. "You little people love your lives, don't you? But life is fleeting. People are like mayflies, breeding and dying and breeding and dying, on and on and on, repeating the same mistakes. It's so dreadfully dull, don't you think?"

Mystery thought back to the few people she'd met over the few days she could remember. On one hand, she could see Missy's point. People just kept dying, over and over again. How many lives had she seen end, and in such a short amount of time?

But even so, life was precious, because it was so fleeting. It was really all she had left, all anyone is ever really given. Was she really so eager to throw hers away?

"But see, I'm not like that," Missy said consideringly, perching on the edge of Mystery's gurney. "Death doesn't frighten me. It doesn't mean anything to me, and not to the Doctor either. See, we go on too long, he and I. We see too much. And that's why we need each other so badly."

Mystery swallowed hard. The pain was starting to come in, and she was having difficulty concentrating.

"But _you_ ," Missy leaned forward and grasped Mystery's chin, turning her head back and forth like a butcher trying to decide where to cut first. "You're something different, aren't you? Something special. I saw your genetic scan, you know. Well, I helped make it," she added with a wink. "Gallifreyan technology, just like the Doctor said. I'd hoped he would have made the connection." She pulled a mournful face. "It seems he's forgotten me entirely."

"And what a burden that must be to you," Mystery told her, without even a hint of sincerity.

"Yes, it is. But no matter," Missy continued briskly. "See, you're an enigma, just like she said. The nutter with the red eyes, you know the one."

"The Shadow Architect?"

"Yes, that's it. Who knows how long you'll live. Even if I wasn't going to kill you, you might die tomorrow of old age. I hear that happens."

Mystery was no longer sure what to think. She'd given up all hope of making it out alive, refused to allow herself even to hope. If rescue did come, it would be as a surprise only. So why was she still alive?

"Because I just couldn't bear to lose you," Missy answered her. Mystery realized with a start that she'd spoken aloud. "You're the most interesting thing to come along for ages, I wasn't going to just _kill_ you, no. I'll keep you about for a bit. After all," she said with a smile, "you've been so helpful to me already."

"Helpful?" Mystery asked suspiciously. "What do you - oh." She stopped, the realization sinking in. "Oh, please no."

Missy smiled. "Yes, I'm afraid so. He's got a lovely name, hasn't he? Suits him so very nicely."

"But I don't remember-"

"No, I expect you don't," Missy said sweetly. "You've been through a lot. Shock and trauma and all that, probably kicking in about now. But I know, trust me, and I learned it from you."

"I don't believe you," Mystery spat. "You're lying, to make me tell, I would never, ever tell you _anything_."

"Oh?" Missy arched one long, thin brow. "Quite sure of that, are you?" She bent forward and whispered in Mystery's ear. Mystery gasped and went ghost-white.

"I don't believe it," she repeated, shaking her head, unable to accept what she had just heard.

"How does it feel?" she asked, leaning away and watching Mystery closely. "To know you've betrayed your best friend, how does it feel? Given away his deepest secret, the one thing he's always kept closest, all those years, how does it feel?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, Doctor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it-" Mystery sobbed, fighting to be free. Missy grabbed her head and held it to the table.

"Hush now, dearie, I can't stand crying, and there's not a thing you can do about it now, is there? You've done your purpose, and more. This is better than I ever could have dreamed, back when I took you in the first place. I had no idea you'd be so useful."

"When you - hold on." Mystery fought back tears, pushing away the grief and guilt that threatened to tear her apart. _Later,_ she promised herself. _I'll be sorry later._ "You… took me?"

"Took you, yes," Missy said breezily. "It was child's play, really." She winked.

"But…" Mystery was more confused than ever. "Took me from where?"

"Oh, the TARDIS, of course." Missy acted as though this should have been obvious. "The shields on that machine are stupendous, I don't mind saying. Getting you out would have been almost impossible. So I did the next best thing: moved you around inside it."

"Moved me around? You're saying I was somewhere inside the TARDIS?" Mystery shook her head in disbelief. "But the Doctor didn't know me. He'd never met me before!"

"Of course he hadn't, do try to keep up," Missy scolded her. "It's only astrophysical quantum engineering, after all."

"Oh, right, of course," Mystery said, rolling her eyes. "How silly of me."

"Mmm. You've got pluck," Missy said approvingly. "I like that. Wouldn't you make a nice little pet? But back to the point," she said, cutting over Mystery's noise of outrage, "you're forgetting one of the most basic facts about the TARDIS. Do you know what it is?"

"It's bigger on the inside?"

"Oh, come on, you're part Time Lord, you're meant to be clever!" Missy sighed. "Think, stupid. It's in the name."

 _In the name? What name? TARDIS? Time Lord? The Doctor's name?_ She felt another pang of guilt at the thought, put pushed it off for later. _I'm going to have a whole lot to deal with when later comes._ Then she amended her thought. _If later comes._

"No ideas? None at all?" Missy sighed again. "I had such high hopes for you, too. Ah well, there's still time."

And then she had it. "Time!" she exclaimed. "You moved me in time!"

"At last!" Missy threw her hands up in the air. "Just when I'd been giving up hope! Yes, I moved you in time. All of time and space exists in that little blue box, you know. It was easy, really."

"So you took me," Mystery repeated, mulling it over. "Then you don't know what I am? How I was… created?"

Missy shrugged. "I'm afraid not. Can't help you, sorry. I just found you. Very convenient. You might know yourself, if I hadn't wiped your memory. Shame about that. But I couldn't have you spilling any secrets, now could I?"

"So if the Doctor didn't know me, then you must have moved me from his future. His future, my past, into his past, my future…Although I guess it's my past too, now." Her eyes flew open as she realized. "But if you moved me within the TARDIS, in my future, then I'm going to live! I'm going to be back in the TARDIS!"

"Well, of course you are!" Missy said brightly. "What'd you think I was going to do, kill you?"

 _Yes,_ Mystery thought, but she said nothing aloud.

"No, you're far too interesting for that," Missy continued musingly. "So here's what we're going to do. I'm going to make it look like you're dead in every way. Got to keep the bosses happy, don't we? Only a basic Time Stop," she said, raising a hand to forestall Mystery's question. "Parlour trick. Freeze you in a single second. No breath, no pulse, no brainwaves. Nothing to register you as alive."

"The Doctor will see through that," Mystery said confidently. "He's got his sonic screwdriver, he'll know."

"Ah, yes, his ridiculous little toy." Missy laughed. "I know all about it. But see, I know its weaknesses, too. And I planned ahead." She rapped her knuckles on the gurney, and instead of the hollow metal sound Mystery expected, it was a dull, muted thud. "It doesn't do wood."

"Doesn't do wood?" Mystery laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. It does everything!"

"Did he tell you that?" Missy inquired. Mystery stopped laughing and nodded. "Thought so. Never trust a man about his machine. The wood should scramble his readings enough that he won't be able to tell." She smiled sweetly. "Didn't mean to crush your hopes and dreams, there. That's just a side effect of knowing me."

She stood up and began to dance about, her feet moving in time to a silent waltz. "And once you're 'dead'," she told Mystery, "I'll send you out there. Let your precious Doctor examine you. He'll be heartbroken, I'm sure. I send you into the TARDIS and off you all pop, happy as can be. Well, as you can be when your friend is dead, I suppose," she added, then shrugged. "Then as soon as you wake up, poof! Gone." She smiled. "So much trauma in one day. Delightful, isn't it?"

Mystery could well imagine. Believing her dead, then having her spring to life only to disappear under their very noses. It would be devastating.

"And you know the very best part?" Missy asked her, doing a plie. "I already know it's going to work. Because here you are, right where I put you. Even if something goes wrong today - even the best-laid plans often do, you know - I have ages to figure it out. And I know I will because I already have. And then you'll be here, and I get to do this all over again, on and on until we find out just how long it takes you to die of old age. I'll be entertained for years. Marvelous, the way that works."

She was right, Mystery realized. No matter what happened, she would end up here, time and time again. But something was missing.

"Why, though?" she asked. "Why go to all the trouble? Seems to me an awful lot of bother just for a little fun." Every nerve in her body screamed that this wasn't what they would call fun, but she ignored the pain. "Why take me in the first place?"

Missy stopped mid step and turned to look at her. "I'm lonely."

Mystery stared. "Is that it?" she asked, her voice loaded with disbelief.

"Is that so little?" Missy sat on the gurney once more, staring off into space. "I'm lonely. I miss my people and I miss my friend. Remember? Pain brings you back to who you are. And deep down inside, I _know_ the Doctor is still my best friend from so long ago. And what gives the Doctor pain?"

Mystery shook her head, but she had a feeling she knew the answer. Images flashed through her head: the Doctor roaring at Daleks while Clara floated in green goo, the Doctor kneeling next to the body of Malcolm Taylor, the Doctor bursting into Joanna Mathers' bedroom to find it empty, the Doctor after Clara was blasted through time. _My friends have always been the best of me,_ he'd said.

"The pain of his friends. And you I don't mind hurting," Missy told her casually. "You mean nothing to me. But somehow you mean a very great deal to him. I hope you appreciate that."

She did, Mystery realized. Despite it all, she wouldn't trade the time she'd had for the world.

"Watching you die a horrific, painful death ought to be enough to bring him back to me, don't you think?"

"No," Mystery said quietly. "I don't think it will."

"And what would you know of it?" Missy scoffed. "Ours is a friendship older than your civilization, and infinitely more complex. You know nothing."

"Maybe not," Mystery replied carefully. "But I'll tell you what I do know. When the Doctor finds out that you are the one who did this to me, he will never, ever forgive you."

Missy's face darkened. "I suppose we'll just have to see won't we?" She strode over to her control panel. "Say goodbye to time, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning." She pulled her lever once more, sending volts coursing through Mystery's body. "Enjoy the pain." And then everything was still. Absolutely still.

* * *

 **A.N: I'm baaack. Did you miss me? I hope you're all pleased that she isn't dead. In the future, can we avoid the death threats, please? Although honestly, I'd thought some of you might have had a little faith. This is Doctor Who, after all. Who stays dead in Doctor Who? So anyway, I hope that all made sense. It is late and I am tired. Also I have discovered Torchwood, which is contributing to the tardiness of this chapter but may also mean a Jack Harkness appearance in the sequel possibly. River and Jack sharing a story is something that needs to happen. So that'll be fun. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay tuned for more! Love to you all!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: A question for my UK readers: do you get insect invasions in the fall? Here in America I get absolutely swamped in ladybugs and things, does that happen to you all? (It's for story development purposes, and not this story, so relax)**


	28. The Shadow's Last Threat

Clara knelt on the cold metal floor, clutching Mystery's limp hand in her own, struggling to comprehend the events of the past few minutes. The Doctor's name… Clara had been wondering about that for ages. It was just one of the things you had to get used to when you traveled with the Doctor. All she knew was that it was powerful and well-guarded, something he had been running from for ages. Doctor who?

"Had enough?" the Shadow Architect inquired.

She watched the Doctor close Mystery's eyes and turn away, his face haggard and pale. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice broken. "What?"

"You know full well, Doctor," the Shadow Architect said, almost amused. "I don't think it worth repeating."

"You've tortured my friend to death," he spat. "You've stolen my name from her mind."

"Oh, not stolen," the Architect interrupted. "She gave it up of her own free will."

"That's not free will!" Clara cried, surging to her feet. "She was in pain, it's not her fault!"

The Architect smiled. "So loyal," she tutted. "In some circumstances it would be admirable. I can see how dreadful this must be for you," she said kindly to Clara, cutting off her protest. "We've nothing against you, you know. As a human, you have nothing to do with this."

"How do you know?" Clara asked archly. "Maybe it was me all along. Maybe that's why the Doctor doesn't know anything."

"Perhaps, but unlikely," the pale woman replied. "You are only human, after all. Known for your monotony. Such a species at this point in your development is simply incapable of the technology required for such advanced recombination." She paused, looking sharply at Clara. "Was it you?"

"Well, no," Clara said, insulted but unable to really refute her argument. "But it wasn't the Doctor either!"

"I'm sure. But don't worry," the Architect told her. "We have methods in place to ensure you will suffer no lasting damage from this."

"No lasting damage?" Clara exclaimed. "I've just seen my friend _die._ How can there be no lasting damage?"

"Oh, it's very simple. Allow me to explain." The Architect walked to the center of the room and pointed up. "Do you see that?"

Clara looked up. Mounted on the ceiling was a round black device, with concentric circles built into it. It was really quite unremarkable.

"I see it," she said. "And what is it?"

"Automated memory filters," the Architect informed her. "We've had them installed in all of our facilities. Too many security breaches. All of our visitors get their memories cleansed upon departure."

"You've never done that before!" the Doctor said, peering up at the innocuous device. The Shadow Architect shrugged.

"New protocol. It's especially useful in here for our relocations."

"Ah yes, your 'relocations'," he said, glancing towards the bay door marked with the same name. "I meant to ask you about that. I'd no idea you did things like that."

"All operations performed by the Shadow Proclamation are on a need-to-know basis," she informed him crisply. "Our services are provided as they are required."

"So, what does that mean, then, 'relocations'?" Clara asked, squirming uncomfortably in the clutches of the Judoon soldiers.

"Oh, it's a very simple process," the Architect said easily. "Stowaways, political prisoners, criminals, all get dropped at our doors. Rather than executing them, we simply wipe their memories, provide them with new identities, and deposit them on their home planets."

"What, and they don't get a choice?"

"Of course not." She looked surprised at the very thought. "Security must always be our first priority, and loose information is always a danger."

"I thought upholding the law was your first priority," the Doctor put in, looking at her sideways. The Shadow Architect met him glance for glance.

"Keeping what we do from being compromised is only a portion of the law, Doctor," she told him. "You've worked with governments before. I believe your U.N.I.T. has even used it on Clara before. You know full well how this goes."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," he muttered. "Alright, so this memory tech stuff. Very neat, very tidy," he said briskly, rubbing his hands together. "Less work for you, and everyone's happy. I'm almost impressed."

"Everyone's happy alright. Except the poor chaps who lose their memories," Clara said icily. "So why couldn't you just do that to Mystery, eh? It's not her fault, she can't help what she is!"

"No home planet," the Architect said, without a trace of remorse. "We'd nothing to do with her."

"So you kill her." Clara slumped against the gurney. "Toss her out like so much rubbish. God, we won't even remember her, will we?"

"Something had to be done, and she was useful to us. Not as much as I had hoped, however," she added, with a touch of a sigh.

The Doctor glared at her. "What do you need to convince you that I _really don't know anything?"_

The red-eyed woman regarded him carefully. "What will it take to break you, Doctor?" she asked softly. "You, who know so much, who have been traveling through time and space for centuries. You can't expect us to believe you don't know what goes on in your own ship?"

"All of time and space is in that ship," he told her. "You honestly believe I can keep all that sorted?"

"Yes," the Architect said simply. The Doctor blinked in surprise.

"Well," he said slowly, with a bit of a smile. "I'm flattered. But I think you overestimate me, Madam Architect."

"No, I don't think I do." The Architect walked over to him and began to circle him slowly. "Your friend has died in pain, and you did nothing. We have learned your name, your deepest secret, and you did nothing." The Doctor looked straight ahead, not acknowledging her at all. "Perhaps to get to the secrets of the TARDIS, we must go to the source."

Clara glanced over at the TARDIS, and saw to her despair that one door still hung open. She began to run towards it, but two Judoon stepped forward and seized her arms, pulling her away. "Doctor!" she called, struggling. He began to run towards her, but in mere seconds there was a gun to her head. The Doctor froze, powerless.

"Oh, the guns," moaned the Doctor with a disgusted sigh. "Why is it always the guns?" One Judoon shifted rather uncomfortably until the other elbowed it in the ribs.

"I see you know what I mean," the Architect said dryly, observing the spectacle. She clapped twice, the sharp sound echoing through the room. "Bring it in."

Clara and the Doctor glanced at each other, she caught by the Judoon, he afraid to move. _Bring what in?_ Clara's eyes asked. _No idea,_ the Doctor's replied. _But be ready._

As they watched, four of the Judoon rolled in a massive cart with an impressive tank-like machine. The Doctor groaned.

"Really, the guns? What is it with you people and guns?"

"Doctor, maybe not the moment," Clara muttered. The unsympathetic Judoon gave her arm a shake, silencing her.

"This is a high-level energy ray," the Shadow Architect informed her captivated audience. "Extremely powerful. It has been specially developed from borrowed technology to break through shields of all kinds."

"Borrowed technology?" the Doctor asked, stepping closer. "Borrowed from whom?"

"See if you can guess."

The Architect reached out and flipped a small switch at the base of the ray gun. The machine whirred to life, and the end of the long gun barrell began to glow a brilliant blue. A very familiar blue.

"Daleks," the Doctor hissed, physically recoiling. He turned away, as if unable to look at it. "You borrowed this from the Daleks. The most evil creatures in the universe, and you're taking their technology."

"All kinds of shrapnel from intergalactic wars finds its way to us," the red-eyed woman told him. "And Daleks are always having wars. It took us a long time to get this much together. However…" She cast a disparaging glance at the open TARDIS door. "We may have gone to all the trouble for nothing."

"Well," said the Doctor, spinning about to face her. "I hate to break it to you, but you just might have. See, the TARDIS has got one hell of a force field around it. And that force field can hold back anything. So-"

"Almost anything," Clara pointed out. The Doctor stopped, then sighed.

"Yes, well, I wasn't going to tell them that," he muttered. "Thanks."

"Your shields are compromised," the Architect said triumphantly. "With this energy beam comprised of the shells of your enemies, we will at last bring you fully to your knees."

"You're threatening the TARDIS," the Doctor answered flatly. "You would destroy my TARDIS, to get information I don't have. Or is this just a punishment now?"

"Not destroy, no," she contradicted him. "Simply damage. We will leave you able to depart, of course. On special request of our dear employee." She indicated a white garbed woman, one of the workers, who stood waiting in the shadows. The Doctor regarded her curiously, but asked no further questions.

"So that's it, then?" Clara spat. "Just, beat up his space ship, wipe our minds, and off we go?"

"Essentially, yes," replied the Proclamation leader, looking mildly uncomfortable with Clara's phrasing. "Unless, of course, we learn what we must. Any new inspirations, Doctor?"

He paused, then looked up. "Alright. Alright. I suppose it hardly matters now, does it?" he asked, his voice heavy. Clara stared in disbelief.

"Doctor, what are you-"

"Clara, there's nothing to be done," he said sharply, cutting her off. He turned to the Architect. "We found her," he said, with an air of great reluctance. "On Sontar. She was a war orphan, left with nothing. We came by on a visit, you know, showing Clara the sights."

Clara nodded, trying to look as though she knew what was going on.

"She came to us for help. We'd no idea she was anything special." He shrugged. "How could we refuse?"

The Shadow Architect stepped right up to the Doctor, looking him in the eyes. After a long moment, she spoke.

"You lie, Doctor," she said in a voice like ice. "You have never taken in any orphans before, even in a war you caused. Why should you start now?"

He shrugged again. "Change of heart?" But it was a weak excuse, and they all knew it.

"I find it difficult to believe that after centuries, you could change now. In addition, this knowledge is hardly worth putting someone you claim is your friend through such pain. And furthermore," she added, cutting over the Doctor's protestations, "the warriors of Sontar leave no orphans." She paused, triumphant, yet there was something faintly disappointed about her manner. "I expected better, Doctor."

The Doctor bowed his head, eyes fixed on the glowing blue light now being wheeled around to point directly through his TARDIS doors. "Please," he whispered. "Please, don't do this. My oldest companion…"

"You can prevent this, Doctor," she told him, her red eyes gleaming. "So easily. No?" She received no answer. "We've wasted enough time, I think. How about five seconds more?" She held up five long, pale fingers. "Five."

"No, please, I'm begging you, you don't know what you're doing!"

"Four." One finger went down.

"The last TARDIS in the universe. The only one of her kind, please, don't do this." The Doctor was begging now, honestly begging. It broke Clara's heart.

"Three." Another finger down, another second gone.

"I'm telling you, I don't know anything! Please, believe me!"

"Oh, I am prepared to believe you any second now," the Architect told him. "Two."

The Doctor watched in helpless horror as she raised one hand in the air. One of the Judoon behind her snapped to attention, one massive finger hovering over a big red button on the energy ray.

"One." The Shadow Architect snapped her fingers and the Judoon pressed the button, a sort of primal glee lighting up his horned face. With a roar and a bang, a beam of blue energy shot out of the gun's barrel, carving a perfect path directly into the heart of the TARDIS. There was a flash of pure white light, then bells began to ring.

"Cloister bells," the Doctor whispered, sinking to his knees. "It's like her alarm. She needs me."

The light passed, leaving them blinded. When at last Clara managed to blink the sun spots out of her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of the TARDIS, blackened around the edges, with smoke pouring out of its doors. And standing before it, almost in silhouette, was the form of the Doctor, broken at last.

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys! I'm back again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I worry at times that it's dragging on a bit, because I'd originally planned all of the past five or six chapters to be about two chapters instead, but oh well. Positive reviews tell me otherwise :) So! As ever, I cannot promise a date for an update, but probably within a few days. I know I've been saying this for ages, but the end is coming, and soon. But it's not over yet, so thank you for bearing with me and Mystery all the way so far. It's been one heck of a ride, and I'm so glad you all could share it with me. Hugs and butterfly kisses!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	29. It's Not Over Yet

"...I declare that justice has been ordained and carried out by the Architect of the Shadow Proclamation, with the power and discretion given to me by the…"

The Shadow Architect's formal speech rang in Clara' ears, not a word actually sinking in. She shook herself free of the Judoon and ran to the Doctor's side.

"Doctor," she said urgently, giving his arm a shake. "Doctor, come on!" He didn't react. "Doctor, we need to go. It's just damaged, not destroyed, you heard them, let's go!"

"The TARDIS…" he muttered, slowly coming to life. "Poisonous smoke, means the core's been breached, that's not a good sign… Extractor fans on!" he said loudly. Something in the TARDIS whirred to life, and the Doctor snapped his fingers, looking pleased when the doors swung shut.

"There, see?" Clara said, trying to be encouraging. "Not so bad, hey?" She took his hand in her own. He looked down at their joined hands and squeezed her fingers gratefully. Then he looked over at Mystery.

"I don't suppose you'd let us take her body?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. The Architect shook her head.

"Her genetics are still unique and unknown, Doctor," she informed him. "We need to study her further."

"Study her?" Clara exclaimed. "Like some sort of lab rat?"

"Merely an autopsy of sorts," the Architect replied calmly. "Standard procedure. Besides, in a few short moments it won't matter to you at all."

"Yes, about that," the Doctor said, the light coming back into his eyes. "This 'memory wipe' of yours. See, you've just killed my friend, and all that's left of her now is a body and the memories we have of her. And you won't let us have one, and now you want to take the other. And I don't think I'm going to let you."

The Shadow Architect laughed coldly. "Doctor, Doctor," she said, shaking her head. "Give it up. Your bargaining chips are gone. We hold all the cards now, including your name. There is no way out."

"Oh there's always a way out," he said lightly, reaching into his jacket pocket. Clara knew that movement, knew what he was reaching for. She smiled slightly and braced herself. "Maybe not a good way," he continued, "but there's always a way. And I'm never out of bargaining chips."

In one fluid motion, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it straight at the memory filter. Within seconds, dozens of Judoon guns were pointed straight at him.

"Don't fire!" the Architect cried, flinging up a hand. "Hold your fire!" The Judoon grumbled a bit, but no one moved. The Doctor gave her a crooked grin.

"Stalemate," he said. "You know what I've got, you know what I can do. I'm guessing…" He peered up at the innocuous little device mounted on the ceiling. "This is the Shadow Proclamation, after all, so probably top of the line, which means less than a second response time. So if I trip the switch…"

He pressed the button on his screwdriver for a split second. The Architect started forward, her pale face going even whiter. The Doctor grinned.

"I see you know what I mean. Somehow it seems a lot worse when you're on the receiving end, doesn't it? No, stay where you are," he said sharply as the Architect began to back away. "Move and I'll trigger it. Now is not the time to test me."

The Architect drew herself up to her full height, mustering her dignity. "A stalemate indeed, Doctor," she said coldly. "You do understand that all hostile inclinations are forbidden on these grounds."

"What, so you're allowed to kill our friend, damage our ship, and wipe our brains, but we can't do the same to you?" Clara scoffed. "If this is justice, I don't want any."

"Madame Architect, you forfeited your right to forbid me to do anything the moment you took Mystery away," the Doctor said, his voice hard.

The pale woman nodded. "Very well. I assume you have terms?"

"Of course," the Doctor said, stepping closer to her, sonic still pointed at the memory filter. "First, send away your soldiers. I hate mercenaries."

She hesitated for a moment, then raised a hand. "Out, all of you," she commanded. Quickly the Judoon filed out, leaving only the Doctor, Clara, the Architect, and the white-garbed workers. She turned back to the Doctor, one thin brow raised. "I don't suppose that's all."

"No, not today," the Doctor said with a small smile. "Nice thought, but it isn't Christmas. Clara, get into the TARDIS, close the door. Can you find your way back to the room I found you in?"

"The heart of the TARDIS? I think so," Clara answered. Then she glanced at the smoking blue box. "That is, if she'll let me."

"Of course she will, go on!" The Doctor kept his eyes fixed on the Shadow Architect.

"But Doctor, what are you going to do?" she asked desperately.

"Whatever I have to," he said grimly. "Now go!"

"Doctor, I'm not leaving you," Clara told him, planting her feet.

"No, of course you're not, I'll be right behind you," he said, trying to shoo her away. "But the TARDIS core could explode any moment unless you get in there and seal it up, so stop wasting time!"

But Clara refused to budge. "I know that look," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You're up to something aren't you?"

"Always am," he answered with a grin. Then he relented. "Clara, you've saved my life so many times," he said softly. "Just once, just for the hell of it, let me save you!"

She hesitated, then sighed and nodded. "Alright," she agreed. Then she pointed one finger at him. "But if you don't come back very very soon, I shall be extremely cross."

The Doctor grinned and waved her off. With one last backward glance at Mystery's limp body, she stepped into the TARDIS, closing the door firmly.

"You are now in direct violation of the Shadow Proclamation protocol," the Architect announced, rather bravely, the Doctor thought, considering her position. "You have made yourself an enemy of intergalactic law."

"Oh, I've been at odds with all sorts of governments before," he replied airily, backing towards the TARDIS. "Never did me much harm. Ah, careful now," he warned, shifting his finger on the screwdriver as the Architect started forward. "I'm not finished. You've still got something of mine, something I need back."

"What, the girl?" The Architect shook her head. "She is still dangerous, Doctor. Such a weapon in your hands, even a potential weapon, is not something I can condone."

"No," the Doctor answered, his voice heavy. "No, there's nothing left of her now. Just memories, and I'm not about to lose those. What I want is my name."

"Absolutely not," the Architect said flatly. "Have you been listening? You are our enemy now. Why would we surrender our greatest weapon against you?"

"Hmm," he thought aloud, pretending to consider it. "Perhaps because if you don't, I'll wipe every memory you ever had of it, along with everything else. With an overload like this, who knows how much you'll lose? Can't do your experiments on her if you don't know who she is, can you?"

"We have records," she informed him crisply. "We keep video records of everything that goes on here, Doctor. Every movement, every sound. You cannot hope to escape unscathed."

"You will delete them," he replied, voice just as crisp and commanding. "Every single one. You will never mention again what you have heard, you won't even remember it, if you know what's good for you."

"And if we don't?" she inquired. The Doctor shifted his hand on his sonic threateningly. The Architect laughed, clearly beginning to regain control. "Give it up, Doctor. I've got people making copies and copies of this, even as we speak. You can't hope to erase all of them."

"You don't know what I can do," he spat, his voice soft and dangerous. The pale woman sniffed and reached out a hand to lay a finger on the red button on the energy ray.

"You called it a stalemate, Doctor? If this is a chess game, then here is my move. We will not erase our records for you. We will allow you to save your friend from the memory wipe; she is only a human. But you will submit or I will shoot you. Those are your choices, Doctor. Now _choose."_

The Doctor regarded her for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well," he said with a sigh, by all appearances defeated. "Here is my choice." He stepped forward, dropping his arm. The Architect smiled, pleased.

"How very sensible of you, Doctor. At last you see sense, and I-"

"Shoot me!" he exclaimed, his hand shooting up to the ceiling. The sonic screwdriver lit up green and emitted its familiar pulsing sound.

"No!" the Architect cried, lunging for the gun. The memory filter hissed, a thick white fog pouring out of the three triangular jets on each side. "Run!" she shouted, heading for the door. Then she turned back, red eyes burning.

"You will not escape, Doctor," she hissed, and jammed her finger down on the energy ray button. An all too familiar beam of blue energy shot out, heading straight for the Doctor, who kept his finger on the sonic button, sending out more and more gas. "Now you will die!" the Architect cried triumphantly. "Now you will-"

The blue bolt made it to less than a meter away from the Doctor and stopped, fizzling out. He grinned at the bewildered Architect. "TARDIS shields," he told her with a wink. "You'd be surprised how much better they work when the door is closed."

"Doctor, I swear…" Then she trailed off, looking dazed. The thick white fog surrounded her completely now, and she couldn't help but breathe it in. "I…" She looked over at him, dazed. "Who are you?"

"Just lay down," the Doctor said gently. "It will all be over soon, I promise, and you won't have to worry about me." The pale woman nodded obediently, settling herself on the floor and closing her eyes.

The Doctor smiled and looked up. He could see the fog roiling against the edge of his shields, almost beautiful. He nodded and headed for the door of the TARDIS. Just as he reached to door, he stopped and turned back for one last glance at his dead friend. What he saw made him freeze.

Mystery lay on her gurney as before, but as the Doctor watched, the fog hit her, making her cough and gasp. _Wait…_ He blinked once, rubbing his eyes furiously, unable to believe what he was seeing. Mystery opened her eyes for just a moment, locking onto the Doctor's bewildered face, before her intense gaze unfocused and she flopped back on the gurney.

"Alive…" he whispered. "She's alive…" With one last delighted smile, he rubbed his hands and dashed into the TARDIS.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all! Another chapter for you, and I promise we are very close to being done with the Shadow Proclamation stuff. I didn't plan on this being as drawn out as it was, so sorry about that. I am predicting only two or three chapters more, which is slightly terrifying but also fantastic. I've had the sequel buzzing about in my brain for about a month now and I'm quite excited about it, so stay tuned for that :) I love you all dearly - we've passed 8,000 views now, which for me is absolutely insane and I can hardly believe it, honestly. So thank you, and happy reading!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	30. A Proper Send-Off

"Doctor!" Clara cried, relieved, as the Time Lord burst through the TARDIS doors, slamming them shut behind him. "You're okay!"

"Course I'm okay, I'm always okay, I'm the king of okay," he told her with a grin, pressing a quick kiss on the forehead and dashing to the console. It was still smoking. "Extractor fans are working, then," he muttered. "Good, good." Then he glanced over at Clara. "What are you still doing here?"

"Doing here?" Clara exclaimed, affronted. "The stupid box wouldn't let me out!" She kicked one of the doors that led deeper into the TARDIS and got a jet of smoke in the face for her pains. "She doesn't trust me!"

"Well, of course she doesn't, not if you keep kicking her." Leaving the console, the Doctor dashed down the stairs to the lower level, below the main floor. "I know I've got one somewhere," he muttered, rooting around in a small cupboard built into the wall.

"Got one what?" called Clara, stepping to the railing. She peered over the side, then jumped back when the Doctor's head popped up. He was wearing an old-fashioned gas mask.

"Are you my mummy?" he asked in a child's sing-song voice.

" _What?"_

"Never mind, inside joke." The Doctor bounded up the stairs, cinching the mask tight as he did so. "I've got to destroy those records, alright? I triggered the filters, and they're on a chain-reaction loop."

"Alright," Clara said, suspicious. "Which means what?"

"Which means, every filter like it in the entire complex should have gone off. Every employee in the place will get their memories wiped. Blanket overload like that, it should only be a few days gone. No harm done, eh? That'll buy us some time."

Clara looked doubtful, but nodded. "Just a few days? You're sure?"

"Mostly." He dashed to the door Clara had kicked. "Come on, old girl, let her in, she won't hurt you." There was a click and the door swung open. "There!" He stepped back, looking pleased. "See? All she needs is a little respect. Nothing to it."

Clara made a face at the console, which lit up and flashed in response. "Alright, stop it, you two," the Doctor said absentmindedly, heading for the door. He pulled them open, then turned back. "Clara, get down there and do whatever you can to seal it up. If you don't, the explosion could shake the entire universe," he said seriously. "But be careful - it's incredibly dangerous. Don't look to closely at it. It can get inside your mind and destroy it."

She gave him a thumbs up. "Not a problem."

"That's my girl. I'll be back as soon as I can, alright? And then we'll get out of here. I promise."

"You'd better," Clara warned, but she nodded and ran off into the TARDIS. The Doctor ducked out, shutting the door tightly behind him.

The room was in shambles. White fog filled the air, obscuring his vision. Pulling out his sonic, the Doctor sprinted towards the screen the Architect had used. Dazed attendants wandered about, disoriented and confused.

"It's alright," he yelled as he ran past, his voice muffled by the mask. "Just a drill. Lay down and go to sleep, it'll be over soon." They began to curl up on the floor in various positions, one even sucking his thumb. Only one showed any resistance.

"Ah, Doctor, look at you," one woman called in a lilting Scottish accent, fighting to keep her feet. The Doctor thought she was the one who had wheeled Mystery in. "You're not any better than any of us."

The Doctor turned to look at the mysterious woman. "Who are you?" he asked her with a small, puzzled smile. "Why do you care?"

"Oh, an old friend, Doctor," she told him, swaying. "One of the best."

"But that-" Before the Doctor could question her any further, her eyes rolled up in her head and she sank to her knees. He hesitated for a moment, then turned away, heading for the screen. It lit up at his touch.

 _Password required._ The words flashed red and a keyboard popped up. "No time to be fancy," the Doctor muttered, pulling out his sonic and pointing it at the screen. He pressed the button, bathing the screen in green light.

 _System override in progress._ A blinking bar appeared on the screen, slowly filling up. Seconds later, alarms began to blare, red lights and sirens filling the room.

The Doctor swore quietly. "Really go the whole nine light years, don't they?" he muttered. Then again, if the filter was chain-linked, then every filter should have gone off. And if there were filters in every room, then every living person would be affected. And if every person was disoriented enough not to come running, then he should have some time...

 _And if there weren't so many 'ifs' in this plan,_ he thought with a groan. Better just to expect armed and angry Judoon to come bursting in at any second. Besides, he reflected with a rueful grin, what's life without a little pressure?

He glanced at the screen, with the bar still loading. "Come on, come on!" Then he heard a clang and a thud behind him. Whirling around, the Doctor saw that one unfortunate worker had fallen against a metal gurney - the very gurney still bearing Mystery. She stirred slightly, groaning.

"Doctor?" she asked faintly. "Doctor, it hurts…Please…"

"Mystery!" The Doctor hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen. _System override in progress._ He cursed. _It's always the choices,_ he thought, grimacing. _Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose._

Then again, perhaps he didn't need to choose at all. Quickly, he undid his bow tie, pulling free the long, thin strip of cloth, and wrapped it tightly around the handle of his sonic screwdriver. He knotted the two ends and smiled, pleased with his success - with the button constantly depressed, the sonic would still work without him being there. He hoped so, anyway.

The Doctor yanked over a nearby rolling cart, abandoned by a hapless employee, and placed his sonic on it, carefully arranging it so it pointed straight at the screen.

 _System override complete,_ now flashed at him, to quickly be replaced by another glowing bar and the words _Processing: Mass delete of information connected to 'Doctor'._

"Brilliant," the Doctor said with a grin. Leaving the sonic to do its work, he dashed over to Mystery's gurney. He carefully cradled her face in his hands.

"Come on, Mystery," he muttered. "I'm here."

Her eyelids fluttered open, her eyes struggling to focus on him. "Doctor?"

"Hello," he said with an encouraging smile. "Good to see you awake."

"Doctor, I remember… I…"

"What do you remember?" he asked, pulling out his sonic and scanning across her face.

"I…" She let out a gentle sigh. "I don't know." Her eyes slipped shut.

"No no no, stay with me!" the Doctor said, almost frantic. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly, but she was unresponsive. "Damn it!" He set her down gently on the metal table, stroking the hair from her face.

The sonic screwdriver pinged suddenly. The Doctor picked it up and flicked it open, examining it. "Ah," he breathed. "A time stop! Highly concentrated, remote activated, very nice! I'm almost impressed. And if I'm not mistaken…" He rapped the gurney with his knuckles and received a solid thud in response. "Wood." He grinned slightly. "Someone knows me well. But you made a mistake," he shouted, spinning about and addressing the room at large. "Time stops are delicate things, especially on a person. Wipe her memories like that, that's a serious shock. Who knows what might happen to her now?"

And that was the question, he realized. What would happen to Mystery? He couldn't take her with him, not now. With her memories gone, she would have no reason to join them, and he sensed it would be far too painful for Clara and himself not to be recognized. Besides, he reflected bitterly, when had being in his company ever done anyone any good? Already today the poor girl had been tortured within an inch of her life.

No, he decided, better for her to start a new life, away from all the madness he brought. Let her make new, normal memories and find her own little bits of adventure. "And I know just the way to do it," the Doctor said to himself, grinning down at the unconscious girl. "Come on, Mystery," he said, grabbing the edge of the gurney. "Time to go."

He wheeled the gurney across the room, dodging fallen workers left and right, and through the big bay doors. "Relocation Center," he muttered. "For once, this might do me some good."

The room itself was small and functional. The walls were lined with odd-looking pods, pods the Doctor recognized as teleport pods. "Very cutting edge," he murmured, "well done." He pushed Mystery next to one such pod and gently lifted her in. He settled her carefully, arranging each limb and strapping her in carefully.

There was a small screen with a little keyboard next to the pod, ready and waiting for use. _Please enter a destination planet,_ it said. The Doctor thought for a moment, then hurriedly typed 'Earth'.

 _Species of subject._ He chuckled a bit.

"That's the question, isn't it?" He scrolled through the list of options, finally settling on a simple 'Other'.

 _Memories provided?_

"Yes, I suppose she'll need some of those." He quickly answered the rest of the questions, and when at last it was done, he turned back to the unconscious Mystery, limp in her pod.

"Well, no time for a proper send-off, I suppose," he said with a sigh. "We'll have to make do." He kissed her forehead gently. "Goodbye, Mystery," he whispered. "I won't ever forget you. I swear." Then in one swift motion, he shut the pod.

There was a flash of bright light, blinding the Doctor and forcing him to shield his eyes. When at last he could see, Mystery was gone.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, friends! With this post, we have achieved both 30 chapters and 60,000 words, which is insane. Apologies for the lateness, I struggled with some writers block hardcore on this one. I hope it makes sense to you all - I've thought about it long enough that everything makes sense to me, whether or not I've gotten crucial details out. If you're confused, review or message me and I'll update it again. This is one that might go through several revisions, sorry. But I can promise you that either in the next chapter or the one after that, we will at last find out the origins of Mystery and how she came to be. So that's exciting. Stay tuned, and I love you all dearly!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: Another question for my British readers, since you were so helpful before - are there any holidays you celebrate with fireworks? In America we do Independence Day, but you wouldn't, of course. I'm just curious. This is, as before, for developing a story, but I won't say which one :)**


	31. The TARDIS Takes Off

The Doctor burst through the TARDIS doors, slamming them shut and ripping off his gas mask. The interior was still smoking, with traces of golden light wisping up through the floor. He dashed to the console, pulling out his sonic and untying the bow tie.

"I always said bow ties were cool," he said to himself, draping it about his neck to put on later and setting the sonic on the console. Then he laced his fingers together, pushing his hands out until the joints popped. "Right," he said, shaking out his hands and placing them on the controls. "Let's get going."

He pulled a lever and the TARDIS jerked into action, haltingly at first. Showers of sparks flew everywhere, threatening to singe the Doctor's jacket. "Yes, I know and I'm sorry," he murmured, patting the console affectionately. "But we've got to get out of here so I can fix you up, alright?"

The TARDIS dinged in response, then the Doctor was thrown off his feet as the entire room lurched. The cloister bells began to ring and smoke boiled out of the console again. The extractor fans roared to life, their noise almost deafening, but the Doctor didn't miss the faint echo of Clara's cry of alarm.

"Clara!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet. He held on tightly to the console as the TARDIS rocked again, sparks flying everywhere. "Clara, hold on! If I can just-" The Doctor reached for his sonic only to find it gone, thrown off in the commotion. "Come on, come on come on come on, where are you?" he muttered, looking around desperately.

He spotted it lying on the floor, rolling this way and that as the TARDIS bucked and lurched. It was getting dangerously close to the edge of the raised platform that made up the center of the TARDIS.

"No, don't you dare," the Doctor muttered, glancing back at the console. The readings on the hanging screens were going berserk, scrolling almost too fast for the Doctor to read. The TARDIS jerked again, sending the screwdriver flying.

"Get back here!" the Doctor cried, diving full-length along the floor, arms outstretched to grab the screwdriver. He caught it at the very last second, seizing it in his fingertips. His momentum took him forward, sliding on his stomach until he was hanging halfway over the edge, sonic still clutched triumphantly in his hands.

The cloister bells sounded again, ringing out the TARDIS's alarm. "Yes, alright, old girl," he said fondly, "I'm working on it." The bells chimed again, more insistently. The Doctor glanced at his watch, then sighed. "Alright then. Quick and cheap it is."

Wriggling himself out as far as he possibly could, the Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver down at the mess of cables and wires below the platform that was the TARDIS's main engine. "I'll just reverse the polarity of the neutron flow, and that oughta get us off the ground, anyway. What'dya say?"

The TARDIS hummed in response. The Doctor patted the metal railing, then heaved himself off the floor. "Now then," he said to himself, taking a moment to tie his bow tie. "Let's see how Clara's holding up."

* * *

Clara found herself back in that same little room for the second time that day. But rather than the quiet, dark space she knew from before, this room told a different story: the protective door was completely gone, leaving the golden glow that was the heart of the TARDIS to spill out uninhibited.

 _It's hard to think something so beautiful could be so dangerous,_ she thought as she shut the outer door behind her.

Shielding her eyes, Clara stepped closer, trying to avoid the tendrils of light that snaked towards her, seeking to draw her in. She could feel it somehow, like a whisper she could just barely hear. No individual words, but a rush of feeling.

Damage, she could feel. And pain, and brokenness. But a curiosity, too, and the thrill of freedom. But it was tired, Clara thought. So much energy going into healing itself. The light, she could somehow see, was making its way into various parts of the TARDIS, repairing it, but it was killing it, too.

There was a sudden jolt and Clara was thrown to the floor. She cried out in surprise and pain as her head smacked against the wall. Instantly, she could feel a sympathy and apology coming from the light, from the TARDIS. The light reached out again, as if to comfort her.

"No, stop it, you," she said, carefully looking away. "I'll be fine." Privately, though, Clara was somewhat touched to feel the concern the TARDIS had for her. _I don't much know what I've done to deserve it._

The TARDIS jerked again, beginning to lurch about. Faintly, Clara could hear the _vworp vworp_ of the engines beginning to fire, although slower and rougher than usual. She could feel the instant strain as the TARDIS was forced to divert some of its energy to taking off.

"You're dying," Clara realized with a jolt. "You're trying to fix yourself, but you haven't got enough power." _And the Doctor doesn't know._

Agreement came in waves, coursing through her, along with an extreme love and protectiveness. "You're not going to tell him, are you? Because you'd rather him get out alive and still have a chance than be arrested. But you can't!" she cried. "You're the last of your kind, the last TARDIS ever!"

A surge of emotion came to her, causing her to look down at her feet. "You're right," she told the light. "He is too." Clara sat down, cross-legged on the floor. "He'll be lost without you, you know," she said conversationally. "It'll break both his hearts."

A memory came unbidden: the Doctor's face as he looked at his smoking TARDIS - broken, empty, hopeless. Almost exactly what the light was sharing with her now. _Better a broken heart than no heart at all._

Clara shook her head fiercely. "No. No, I am not doing this. Do you know how weird this is?" she asked, getting to her feet. "I'm having a conversation with _light."_ But she knew, somewhere, that her mind was made up.

The tendrils of light began to curl around her ankles, sensing her intentions. "So it's energy you want, is it?" she asked softly. "Well. You're in luck. Because time energy, human energy, I've got it all, and plenty of it, too." Clara took one halting step forward, feeling the golden glow warm her skin. "But it's worth nothing to me if I never get to use it. And if you die, well… I don't think I'll be going very far."

She took another step. The golden light was getting stronger now, curling about her up to her waist. "But I'm not doing this for you," she continued, slowly stepping deeper and deeper. "And I'm not even doing this for me."

Dimly, Clara could hear the Doctor calling for her, but the sound was muted, as if she was under water.

"It's funny, isn't it, how little your own life can seem sometimes?" she asked with a little smile. The light danced around her shoulders now, lifting her hair and leaving trails of gold across her vision. "Like it's nothing. Just a leaf, blowing in the wind. Especially when you look at the Doctor. How long he's lived, the number of lives he's changed for the better. And he just can't see it." Clara shook her head. "That wonderful man. He doesn't see the good he does. Only the bad."

"Clara! Clara, what're you doing, I told you it was dangerous!" The Doctor's voice echoed from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him peering through the little window of the door, looking desperate. As she watched, he reached for his sonic screwdriver, clearly intending to get in by any means.

Clara looked down at the light swirling all around her, almost so bright as to be white now. "Don't let him in, alright? For his own sake." She felt the TARDIS's agreement and support washing over her, giving her the strength to do what had to be done.

"I've already lost Mystery today, Clara." The Doctor's voice broke as he threw the sonic aside and pounded on the door. "Please, don't make me lose you too."

"Oh, Doctor." Clara felt a pang of guilt, whether from her or the TARDIS she really didn't know, but she stopped and turned around to face him. To the Doctor she looked like an angel, surrounded by heavenly light. "I'll always be here, one way or another. Maybe I'll be part of the TARDIS. Who knows?"

She smiled, her eyes shining. Her resolve weakened for a moment as she realized the Doctor was crying. But the warm light surrounded her, bearing her up. "But you'll remember me, and I think the TARDIS will too. And you'll keep going on having your mad adventures and changing people's lives. Maybe with somebody new, and that's fine, because I'll be the reason you're still there. And you'd best not ever forget it."

The Doctor nodded, giving her a small, tearful smile. "You know I won't," he told her. "I could never forget you, Impossible Girl."

"Right." With one final smile, Clara nodded sharply. "Goodbye, Doctor." She took one step backwards, through the frame where a door had stood earlier that day. The white light engulfed her, becoming blinding and forcing the Doctor to avert his eyes. Somewhere above, the TARDIS engines began to roar. As he looked away, unable to stop the tears from coming, he heard one last whisper: " _Remember me."_

* * *

 **A.N: Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I know I promised Mystery's big reveal in this chapter but it just didn't quite work out. Once again, things got longer than I anticipated and it was such a good ending point I couldn't bear to make it go on for any longer. Next chapter, I swear on fish fingers and custard, you will find out. And that, barring another day like today, will be the very last chapter. And then we'll have an epilogue, because I like epilogues, and I think you will too.**

 **Anyway, thanks all for reading, and for being so helpful with the Boxing Day stuff. That will work out perfectly for me :) You all are wonderful readers and I couldn't be happier about the fanbase I've acquired with this. It has been a most pleasant surprise. Thank you all so much!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	32. All Is Not Lost

" _No._ "

The Doctor was in shock, half blinded by the piercing glare. "No, no Clara, you can't…" He broke down, tears flowing freely. One small tendril of light wound its way over to touch him lightly on the hand, sending him all the comfort the TARDIS could manage. The Doctor looked down in surprise as he began to understand.

"You needed energy? But why… You should have asked me. Me, not her!"

The answer was simple - to spare him the pain. His old girl was much more fond of him than of any companion.

"Selfish." The Doctor jerked his hand away from the light. "That's all you are. Spare me the pain? As if losing her wouldn't be more pain than anything I could do to myself." His voice cracked. "Don't I get a say? I've been around just as long as you, I've seen everything you have, you haven't got the right!" He got to his feet and began to pace, muttering to himself. "Sentient machines… Think they can choose everything…" Then he stopped short.

"No," he said aloud. "This isn't just you. I will have a say." He rolled back his sleeve, concentrating fiercely on one hand until it began to glow with a golden light not unlike that of the TARDIS behind him. "You want energy? Then take it." He lifted his hand, wreathed in regeneration energy, and pointed it straight towards the pool of light. "Take it, and _bring her back._ A few years of life is a small price to pay. I've lost too many already, and I am not losing her!"

The white light flared, drinking in his power, then faded, leaving the Doctor blinded. He staggered and blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the glowing afterimages left on his vision, as well as clear his eyes of tears. He looked around desperately, peering through the sunspots, looking for any hint of her, but there was no one. Only now did it fully sink in. Clara, his Clara… Gone.

The TARDIS engines were churning steadily now, powering him up and away from the Shadow Proclamation base. Then they seemed to falter for a moment, like a heart skipping a beat. The Doctor looked up in surprise, staring bemusedly at the ceiling.

"What're you up to, old girl?" he asked gently, reaching for his fallen sonic. Before he could really do anything, however, the engines kicked back in, a bit weaker than before, but somehow smug. The Doctor raised one thin eyebrow.

"Alright. Something's definitely going on. Are you going to tell me what?"

As if in response, the light behind him, reduced to a soft golden glow, flared up once more. The white glare was blinding, just as bright as it had been before, if not brighter. Forced to look away, the Doctor sat crouched on the floor, head in his hands, wondering what could possibly be going on.

The light reached a peak and began to fade. The Doctor looked up carefully, shading his eyes with his hands, and felt his breath catch as he saw a very familiar silhouette.

"Clara?" he whispered, his voice rough. He hardly dared to let himself hope. The glow dimmed a bit more and he could see that yes, this was his Impossible Girl. "But I don't… How…"

Clara smiled and took one halting step forward. "Doctor," she said, the voice nearly as rough as his. "I'm here, Doctor, it's me, it's really me!" She started to run towards him, but after only a few steps she went pale and staggered. The Doctor was instantly on his feet.

"There, I've got you." She fell against him, half delirious. He scooped her up, carrying her bridal style and settling her against the wall. Kneeling beside her, he smoothed the hair out of her face. "Clara, my Clara."

Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on his with difficulty. "She sent me back," she whispered. "The TARDIS, she sent me back. Made me again, just like I was." This was not quite true, the Doctor noted - she was extremely weak. Clara looked up at him, suspicious. "Did you…" She hesitated, but forged on. "I thought I felt something, just for a moment, and it felt like you. And then I was here…" Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

The Doctor looked at her for a moment, then grinned, not quite meeting her eyes. "Me? Nothing at all. Probably just felt the Rassilon Imprimatur. It's part of getting a TARDIS, see, the prime it with the biological imprint of the symbiotic nuclei of my cells, so nobody can fly it but me, but that also means I'm a part of it, and… what?"

"You're talking nonsense to distract me, aren't you?" she said with a hint of a smile. The Doctor made a face.

"That is not nonsense! It's really what they do!"

Clara giggled a bit. "Alright then, Doctor. Tell me what happened. Because, I should have died and I didn't. And that's the second time in two days and I would really like to know what's going on."

"I wish I could tell you." He shrugged. "All I have is guesses."

"Well, go on, then," Clara said, looking up at him. "Let's have a guess."

The Doctor sat back on his heels. "You stepped into the heart of the Tardis. Even I don't know how strong that is. And the ship's telepathic. Gets inside your head. Translates alien languages. Maybe the raw energy can translate all sorts of thoughts. I've seen it before," he added, straightening his bow tie. "In Cardiff. Margaret the Slitheen. She wanted a fresh start so the TARDIS turned her into an egg. Regressed her back into childhood." He looked sideways at Clara. "So what were you thinking about?"

"What was I thinking about?" Clara looked down at her hands and thought for a moment. "I was thinking about my life," she said after a pause. "That makes sense, doesn't it? When you're dying?"

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. Then he took a deep breath. "The last time I was dying," he said softly, "I looked back on all of you. All my companions. Every single one. And I was so _proud."_

"Well, in a way I suppose I did too," Clara told him, her brown eyes meeting his green ones. "Because even though I knew I was dying, I kept thinking about Mystery, and wondering…" Her voice broke. "Wondering what she was thinking about when she knew she was going to die. If she was thinking about us. Because we were her family, Doctor!" she said with a sob. "We were all she had, and we… we let her down."

The Doctor gathered her up in his arms, holding her close. "I know, Clara," he said into her hair. "I've been thinking about her too. Over and over again, replaying the whole thing in my mind. If I'd have been a bit cleverer, a bit faster, maybe she'd still be here."

"I know," she said gently. "I know. But there's nothing to be done now," Clara told him, pulling back and looking him in the eye, trying to be strong. "So we've just got to… Just got to keep going on, that's all, and not blame ourselves. I just wish… Oh Doctor, I wish she were still alive!"

"Me too, Clara," the Doctor said, pulling her towards him again. "Me too."

They held each other for a moment, just happy to be together and safe, taking comfort from the presence of the other. And all the while the Doctor's thoughts raged back and forth: tell or don't tell?

 _Look at her, she's crushed,_ one part of him said. _Don't you think it'd be better if she knew she was alive?_

 _Alive, she might be,_ the other part replied, _but she's not Mystery any more. Even if you could find her in the billions of people on Earth, she wouldn't know who you are. And don't you think that'd break her heart even more?_

 _You could show her,_ the first part argued. _Remind her somehow, teach her who she is again._

 _But that'd be even more memories she'll have lost. It'd be so much kinder just to leave her. Give her a fresh start at a normal life. The one adventure you can never have._

"Doctor?"

The Doctor snapped back to the present, realizing that this wasn't the first time Clara had called for him. "Yes, what is it, what's going on?"

"Are you hearing that too, or is it just me?"

The Doctor listened closely. From somewhere above them, he could hear a faint wailing, almost like… "Is that a baby?" he asked, bewildered.

"I thought that's what it sounded like." Clara looked over at him, half puzzled, half amused. "How many other people have you got tucked away in here?"

"None! I mean, I haven't got anybody, that is-" He was terribly flustered. Clara laughed.

"Come on. Let's go see." She pulled him to his feet and dragged him towards the door. He followed, glad for a lighter topic. Then he turned back.

"Put a door over that, would you?" As he watched, a thick metal door slid out of the doorframe, clicking home with a thud. A panel on the wall next to it opened to reveal a sensor pad, ready for action. The Doctor was quite certain there had been no panel there before. He smiled. "Thanks, old girl." Then he followed Clara down the hall.

* * *

 **A.N: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I know what I said, and from now on I will never make another promise, because clearly I suck at keeping them. I had to restructure some things because I waited too long to have the thing happen and then I got another little idea and yeah. I'm sorry. Hopefully this will be enough feels to tide you over for a few days more? And if not, I understand, I do, and I'm sorry. I think you'll be happy later though, that I got a chance to play with it more.**

 **However, you now should have all the clues you need to put the pieces together, if you've been reading carefully enough. I greatly look forward to hearing what you think? Please, if you've got even the tiniest idea as to how this is going to work out, don't hesitate to tell me. I'm extremely curious to know. Steven Moffat said in an interview that whenever you do a reveal, you have to make the answer as complicated as the question if you have any intention of continuing the story at all (this interview was about River's identity revealed at Demons Run), and I think I'll have upheld that :) Just remember: all is not lost.**

 **Anyway, I'm sorry again, and thank you for putting up with me as long as you have. I love you all more than I can say - your messages and reviews are a joy to my heart.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	33. Mystery No More

The Doctor and Clara followed the sound through corridors, up and down flights of stairs, and around corners, the Doctor holding out his sonic to help them find the way. They finally found themselves back in the same storage room where they'd found Mystery earlier that day.

"I'm almost getting deja vu," Clara remarked, looking around the dusty room at all the strange items, so many of which had to do with her. _What's he doing with all this stuff?_ she wondered. _Has he got a room like this for everyone who comes his way? One for Mystery?_

The Doctor, however, was thinking something quite different. 'I don't always take you where you want to go,' the TARDIS had said, 'but I always take you where you need to go.' _Is this why?_ he asked her silently. _Did you know this would happen all along?_ Maybe she had, but it was rather difficult to know with a machine, especially one like the TARDIS.

"You're sure this is the place?" Clara asked, running a finger along one very dusty cabinet. "This is where the sound is coming from?"

"Almost positive." The Doctor held up his screwdriver, flicking it open and checking the readings. "The sonic certainly seems to think so. I've managed to triangulate the sound waves and the heat signature, and they both pointed here. No heat trail, though," he added, wrinkling his nose. "So nobody's been through here recently, not since we came by earlier. And that means that somebody placed this baby here. If that's what it is," he added with a grin. "You never know for sure."

"But you're certain the sound leads here," Clara said to confirm. The Doctor nodded. "So why's the sound stopped?" Sure enough, the room had fallen silent. "We've got to find her," she said determinedly.

"Her?" The Doctor looked at her sideways. "What makes you so sure it's a 'her'?"

"Well, I'm not going to call her an 'it', now am I?" Clara told him irritably. "Besides, I've just got a feeling."

The Doctor shrugged, but nodded. "Well, let's start looking then. Spread out," he told her. "We'll cover more ground that way. Keep to a sweeping pattern, don't let any corner go unsearched."

"Yes, sir!" Clara snapped off a sharp salute, but she was grinning. "Getting all tactical, are we?"

"Spend enough time working with soldiers and you'll pick up a few things," he told her. "Besides, it's only common sense."

"Not common enough, if you ask me," Clara replied, but she took a few steps away and began to search, the Doctor following her lead.

"Yell if you see anything," he told her as they began to separate.

"Oh, don't worry," she promised with a grin. "I will."

* * *

On the other side of the room, a blonde woman dressed in rags stood over a wooden cot, twirling the mobile of stars and moons that hung above it. Inside, a baby laughed and clapped it's pudgy hands in delight.

"There now, would you look at that?" the Moment said with a smile. "Your first stars."

She reached down one finger and stroked the child's soft, downy hair gently. The baby smiled a toothless smile and reached up to grab at her hand. The Moment let her, surprised at her grip.

"You don't let go easily, do you?" she asked, gently prying the child's fingers away. "I suppose that makes sense. You're here, after all."

Bad Wolf settled herself onto a small wooden chair next to the cot. "I did try to warn you, you know," she said conversationally. "About what was going to happen. I might not have done a very good job," she admitted, rocking the cradle gently. "But you did alright, didn't you? Somehow you made it through." The Moment smiled, her eyes flashing gold. "I'm proud."

A clang echoed around the room, the sound of a door swinging open. Soon after, voices could be heard, voices the baby clearly recognized. Bad Wolf turned to see the child smiling and clapping her hands with glee.

"Yes, you know them, don't you?" she said with a soft, sad smile. "They'll be here soon, I expect. The Doctor with his sonic screwdriver, yes, they'll find you soon enough. And then you won't see me anymore. They won't see me at all, not for some time yet. But that's alright, that's how it should be."

She reached into the cot, carefully lifting the child up. "I love babies," she said, almost to herself. "So much potential. Their minds are so open. I wouldn't be able to touch you otherwise," she told the child cradled in her arms, tapping her lightly on the nose. The baby gurgled with pleasure.

"Clara, any luck?" the Doctor's voice called from somewhere behind her. Bad Wolf turned around, clutching the child to her chest. She couldn't see anyone, but the voices were close.

"Not so far," Clara replied, off to the left. "Funny-looking dress, though. Victorian, almost."

The Moment laughed softly. "That ought to raise some questions." She carefully returned her armful to the cot. She tapped the mobile, sending it dancing and spinning.

"You watch those stars," she told the baby, "and soon you'll see some real ones. And someday you'll be taken away, and you'll be scared. Just watch the stars, and they'll find you again. And I'll see you again too."

She stepped back, folding her arms on her chest. The baby, distracted by the mobile, didn't notice for a moment, but soon the absence of the golden woman was noted. Quickly, wails filled the air as the child mourned the loss of this kind companion. Bad Wolf smiled.

"Hush now," she whispered, her voice fading out. "And goodbye."

* * *

Clara peered through the semidarkness, uncovering oddity after oddity. "What does he keep in here?" she muttered, uncovering a sort of strange, jelly-like substance in a cup. She stuck a cautious finger in it, then tasted it. "Urgh!" Hurriedly, she moved on. _Time Lords are weird._

She was almost beginning to wonder if she'd imagined the sound, the room was so quiet now. The only sounds to be heard were the faint shufflings and bangings as the Doctor made his search. Clara was on the point of giving up when screams split the air: screams that were unmistakably from a baby.

"Doctor!" she yelled, running in the direction of the sound. She heard a crash and a clatter, as if something had been knocked over, then the Doctor's groans.

"I'm alright," he called. She rounded a corner to see him in a pile of what looked like metal spare parts, rubbing his head. "Don't mind me," he said upon catching sight of her. "Go find this baby!"

Clara laughed but nodded, taking off towards the crying child. At last she spotted a wooden cot, decorated with patterns of circles and lines she recognized as Gallifreyan. Lying inside it was a baby, red with screaming.

"Doctor, I've found her!" There was a brief pause, followed by, "I was right, she is a girl!"

"Great," the Doctor replied with a groan, getting to his feet and making his way over to her. "Now can you calm her down?"

"I don't know how!" She picked up the child, holding her awkwardly. "I don't know anything about babies." The little girl continued to scream.

The Doctor stared. "You're a governess!" he said in disbelief.

"That's kids, not babies!" she retorted. "If you're so clever you take her!"

With a sigh, the Doctor reached out and took the baby from his companion, fitting her into the crook of his arm and rocking her back and forth. She quieted almost instantly. He grinned up at Clara.

"Dad skills," he told her. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

The baby gurgled happily, little hands grabbing up at the Doctor's bow tie. "A creation of the TARDIS," he murmured, tickling the child lightly. "Made from your thoughts and my energy and the core of the TARDIS herself. With bits of DNA from thousands of creatures… because they've all got a record in the TARDIS data core! Every species I've ever encountered… oh, that is brilliant! It's good to see you again," he told the baby with a smile.

Clara blinked. "You're not saying…"

"I know," the Doctor said with a delighted grin.

"Then this baby is…"

"Yep." He was clearly absolutely thrilled with the events. "Synthesized out of your love and thoughts and desire for life and dropped right here in that cot. That was my cot, you know. And my wife's." He winked. "She's in good company."

"Your _what_?"

"Never mind that now," he answered, dodging the question. He bounced the baby lightly. "Look, Clara, she's got your eyes!"

"But how?" Clara asked in disbelief. "How can any of this be happening?" The Doctor shrugged.

"To be honest, I've no idea. How are you here? How are any of us here?" He raised an eyebrow. "Some things are best left unknown, I think."

"Alright," she said slowly, trying to process. "So now what?"

"Take care of her, I suppose," the Doctor answered consideringly, looking down at the child in his arms. "Bring her up. Show her the stars."

"But she'll disappear someday, won't she?" Clara asked anxiously. "If she appeared in the TARDIS however long ago, that means she'll disappear from our future, right?"

"I expect so," he said amiably. "And we won't have to worry, because whatever happens, we know she'll end up safe with us."

"Safe with us," she repeated bitterly. "Until we take her to her death at the Shadow Proclamation."

The Doctor's face darkened. "I know. But think about it, Clara," he told her earnestly. "If we hadn't brought her there, if the TARDIS hadn't been shot, she would never have existed! It had to happen, see?"

"I suppose so," Clara said doubtfully. "But what are we going to call her?"

"No question," the Doctor answered immediately. "She named herself, didn't she?"

Clara smiled down at the tiny child cradled in the Doctor's arms. "She did. Very true." The Doctor beamed.

"Hello, Mystery."

* * *

 **A.N: And at last, there it is. Perhaps not as grand as I expected it to be, but things happened and yeah. So! There will be one more chapter (that was going to be tacked on to this but now is going to be a chapter itself) and an epilogue, and then I will probably do something else before I start the sequel. Nothing too long, of course - I'm thinking maybe just a simple one-shot. We'll see. If you want to stay up to date on what I'm doing, feel free to follow me as an author to recieve updates when I post new stories and things (I'm not sure exactly what all that does, honestly). Also, if you need some more Doctor Who in your life, you can follow me on Pinterest - my name is currently Just A Bit Unlikely, with a picture of River and Eleven, and literally all I pin is Doctor Who. So that's fun. Many thanks to you, my wonderful readers, for sticking with me to the very end. We're very nearly there.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: My story is now at exactly 66,666 words, which is really just plain weird. I'm not sure what to think of it exactly, other than it's a heck of a coincidence. Is there anything Doctor Who related that can explain this to me?**


	34. A New Life

Millions of lightyears away, a young woman once known as Mystery sat up with a start, gasping. She looked around desperately, trying to find something that would tell her where she was.

She was sitting in a hard wooden chair, she discovered, in some sort of office. Before her was a desk, covered in papers, picture frames, and discarded coffee cups. A man was sitting behind the desk, writing something. He glanced up at her movement.

"Ah! You're awake. Finally. Hello," he said with a warm smile. "The name's Seb." He stood up and held out a hand for her to shake. "Welcome to Earth."

The dazed woman took his hand automatically and opened her mouth to say something, although what, she didn't know.

"Ah, ah, don't try to talk," the man admonished her. "I'm sure things are a bit muddled right now." He tapped his own head and smiled conspiratorially. "They really did a job on you up there! We had to restore enough memories for you to be able to think, talk, know how to take a cab, all of that. Just the basic package, of course. You'll have to make the rest for yourself." He winked. "They say that's the point of life, you know."

As he spoke, memories flashed into her head like circuits connecting, one image linking to another to another. It was coming back now, she thought - or maybe not back at all. Could something come back if it had never been there in the first place? She put her head in her hands, trying to force the images into coherency. And if memories were the point of life… How much of a life did she have?

"I'm sure this must be very confusing for you. Don't worry, this is all perfectly normal," Seb told her encouragingly. "Can I get you some coffee?" Without waiting for an answer, he went to the door. "Could we have some coffee along here please? The good kind. We've got a new one." He shut the door and returned to his desk. "Five minutes, tops. It's best to wait for the good coffee," he half-whispered. "Sometimes it's just the instant." He pulled a face.

"Where…" Her voice was raw, although from disuse or overuse she couldn't remember. She cleared her throat. "Where am I? What happened?"

"Ooh, big question. You're in a Shadow Proclamation relocation base, located in the Tower of London. We work in operation with the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. I'm sure that means nothing to you." He smiled understandingly. "Essentially you ended up in space and you shouldn't have, so they wiped your memory and patched you on down here. It's my job to get you up to speed."

Seb got to his feet and went to a cabinet, pulling out an ophthalmoscope. "Just a little check-up," he reassured her, dimming the lights and testing the light on his palm. "Look behind me." He shone the light first in one eye, then the other. "Excellent. Now a question: do you remember my name? I told it to you when we first met."

She thought for a moment, watching him turn the lights back on and settle himself in his chair. "Seb," she said. "I think."

"Excellent. Your amnesia is only retrograde. You can still form new memories," he explained at her blank look. "It's only past ones that have been lost."

"What, haven't you got a last name?" she asked with a grin.

"Not in this job," Seb told her. "Very hush-hush. Maximum security and all that. Now, a bit of information. You're on Earth, like I said, in London, England. Today is March 26, 2005." He paused, looking down at his paper stack. "Let's see, what else…"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. A small woman came in carrying two coffee cups. She gave the bemused woman in front of her a friendly smile as she set the cup down in front of her. "Ah, wonderful!" Seb exclaimed with a smile. "Thanks, Victoria." The woman nodded and backed out of the office. Seb turned back to his charge. "Go on, drink up. I know you could use a lift right now."

She took a careful sip as he shuffled some papers around, finally pulling out the one he wanted. "As long as you're still processing, let's go over the details we've provided for you. It's the standard English package," he explained. "Everything from things about your personal life to current events and popular music. All the little details you'll need to fit in just fine." He pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and eyed the first line on his paper. "Standard English indeed," he muttered. Then he looked at the young woman in front of him. "Can you tell me your name?"

She paused, panicking for a moment when nothing came to mind. "It's alright, just relax," Seb told her. "Let it come." Fighting down her worries, the confused woman leaned back in her chair, took another drink of coffee, and closed her eyes. "Good, good," Seb murmured. "The memories will settle in soon."

"Is it… Elizabeth?" she asked uncertainly. "Elizabeth Lancaster. I think so, anyway."

"Third one I've had this week," he muttered. "We really need to get some new memory packages."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nothing!" he said hastily. "Nothing at all. That was very good, Elizabeth. When is your birthday?"

"November 18th, 1984," the newly-dubbed Elizabeth replied, more confident this time.

"That checks out," Seb said, reading from his sheet. "So if this is 2005, that would make you how old?"

It took her a moment to do the math. "Around 20?"

"Very good," he said with a smile. "You've now got better mental math capabilities than the average American. Now," he continued before she had a chance to respond, "you're a bit late to be starting at a university, but we've had to make due. We've enrolled you as a late transfer at Imperial College London, what you do there is up to you. You'll be meeting with an advisor later today to schedule classes." He handed her a fat manila envelope. "All the details are in there. You should have everything you need to be perfectly normal."

Elizabeth stared at the envelope, which she knew contained everything she was, every detail about her life that she had supposedly led. Perfectly normal…

"But what about all of this?" she asked. "Beamed in from space, secret office in the Tower of London, everything! How am I supposed to go about living a normal life when I know all of this? If you can't even use your last name -"

"Relax, Elizabeth," Seb said placatingly. "You'll be fine. I'm sure all of this will just slip away once you've gotten acclimated." He gave her a winning smile, which she returned with her most skeptical glare. He shrugged. "Aaand if not," he added apologetically, "we've taken the liberty of mixing a slight amnesiac in your coffee."

Elizabeth set down her cup hurriedly, scrubbing her tongue with her sleeve. "You can't just do that!" she spat. Seb shrugged.

"It's just part of the job. Perfectly safe. We borrowed it from a friend over in Torchwood. His own recipe, with a touch of denial and a dash of Retcon. A little bit of sedative, too. Our techs have amplified it some." He smiled. "Besides, soon it won't matter at all. You won't remember why you're angry."

He shoved back his chair and stood up, holding out a hand for her to shake. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Elizabeth, and nice to be with you while you met yourself," he said with a smile. She resolutely ignored his hand. "That's alright, I get that a lot." He checked his watch. "The amnesiac should take effect in a few hours, so I'll leave you here to look over your file there."

The young woman glanced down at the folder in her lap with distaste and shoved it away. "I don't want it."

"That's your choice. I expect you'll think differently soon." Seb walked to the door and let himself out. "Have a good life, Elizabeth Lancaster." She heard a lock click.

She sat in the hard wooden chair, determined to remember. "I was in space," she whispered over and over. "These memories aren't mine. This isn't who I am." But she didn't have anything else to fill in the gaps, and as she sat her determination began to slip away.

Less than an hour later, she noticed a manila envelope sitting on the floor next to her chair. Picking it up, she flipped through it with interest, reading details about her college and an appointment she had to choose classes.

 _University,_ she thought idly. _I wonder what I'll study?_ Then she glanced at the wall clock mounted across from her. Her appointment, she discovered with alarm, was in less than half an hour.

Elizabeth went to the door and knocked. "Excuse me," she called through the wood. "Could someone let me out please? I have somewhere to be soon."

Moments later, she heard a metallic click, and then a young man opened the door. He looked vaguely familiar. "Ah, Elizabeth!" he said with a smile. "You're all ready to go?"

"Yes," she said pleasantly. "Yes, I think so." Then she frowned slightly. "Do I know you?"

"We met once, briefly," the man told her. "I wouldn't expect you to remember it." He stuck out a hand. "The name's Seb."

She shook his hand firmly. "Could I please be on my way? I've got an appointment at Imperial College London." She swelled a bit with pride as she said this - all the hours of studying had paid off.

Seb raised an eyebrow, apparently impressed. "Imperial? Congratulations. Right this way." He led her through a series of corridors and out into the bright London sunshine. "Look at that," he remarked. "A perfect day for a new life, don't you think?"

And as she walked off towards her future, Elizabeth Lancaster couldn't help but agree.

* * *

 **A.N: Happy anniversary! If you don't know, today (November 23, 2015) is the 52nd anniversary of Doctor Who, which is super exciting. I'd like to say I saved this chapter to publish until today, but really it was a happy coincidence. But even so. The story is essentially done, but there's still an epilogue, so don't go away!**

 **In addition, something I've been meaning to say for ages and never did: I totally restructured the plot from my original plan for this. When I started this I had never seen a full episode and was struggling along on BBC-released clips (which I really don't advise). I had planned for Mystery to be Clara and the Doctor's biological daughter, with none of the extra stuff involved, and then she was going to be kidnapped by the Alliance to get at the Doctor. I changed that for pretty much one reason: I discovered River Song, which led to me realizing that a) I no longer shipped Whoffle (although if you don't think that's the cutest ship name ever then get out), and b) My plot was not so original as I had hoped. So this slowly came into being, and I like it much better. I hope you do too.**

 **Also, I broke 10,000 views yesterday, which is incredible and so far beyond anything I had ever dreamed, so thank you all so so much for that. You are not the reason I write (Mystery is, honestly) but you are the reason I enjoy writing, and without you this would never have come to be. I love you all more than you can guess.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	35. Epilogue: An End and a Beginning

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Dr. Elizabeth Lancaster Brooke, aged 87. Elizabeth passed away last Tuesday at 5:16pm after a lengthy battle with lung cancer. Elizabeth will always be remembered as a loving wife, mother, and friend to all…"

A young woman stood back behind the group of mourners, hiding among the gravestones, dressed somberly in black. She smiled. It was a good turnout, better than she had expected. She was constantly underestimating the amount of people a single life could touch.

"Little is known about Elizabeth's early life. Her parents died when she was young, and Elizabeth was placed in the West County Children's Home in Gloucester. She later was accepted to Imperial College London, where she studied astrophysics and later achieved her Ph.d."

 _Dr. Lancaster,_ she thought with a smile. _It sounded so very official. I suppose it only made sense that I should gravitate towards the stars._ She chuckled. _No pun intended._

"Elizabeth was well known for her work on the Mars One project, which works towards colonization of Mars. She was later instrumental in the design of Bowie Base One and gained a lot of support from her colleagues for the idea."

A murmur went through the assembled crowd. The young woman smiled. _Evin's family never did like that idea much._ Her own family, on the other hand, well. She had a funny idea they wouldn't have minded at all.

"Through this work she met her husband Evin Brooke. The two were married in London in March of 2008. They had one child, Devan John."

An older man in the front row was weeping silently, earning sympathetic looks from the rest of the group. The young observer badly wanted to comfort him, but forced herself to keep her distance.

"Evin passed away early last year. His loss took Elizabeth hard, and it was anticipated she would not live long without him."

 _Oh, my Evin,_ the woman thought. _I thought I couldn't live without you._ She glanced down at her hands, which danced with a faint golden light. _Turns out I don't have much of a choice._

She thought back to that baffling moment in her hospital room, when she'd felt herself slipping away. She had been ready, had said her goodbyes, and she when the regeneration came, she was prepared. The world exploded in golden light, and when it was done, Elizabeth Lancaster was gone, and in her place stood a young woman with an unfamiliar face and a head full of memories she could finally call her own.

 _Mystery,_ she thought with a smile. _I suppose I can start using that again now._

"Elizabeth is preceded in death by her husband Evin Brooke and daughter-in-law Adelaide Brooke. She is survived by her son Devan, her grandson Jason Brooke (Emily), and her great-granddaughter Susie Fontana Brooke."

 _Actually, she survived them all,_ Mystery thought wryly. Was this how the Doctor felt too? Then again, the Doctor never went to his own memorial service.

"Her family and friends will remember her for her tart sense of humor and love of life, as well as for everyone she met."

She watched as the service concluded and the mourners slowly dispersed. There was no casket, which had been difficult to explain, but she'd managed to convince Devan as she lay in the hospital not to worry. Instead, there was just a simple tombstone, now piled with flowers.

Mystery walked up to it and knelt on the snow-covered ground. 'Elizabeth Lancaster Brooke,' it read. '1984 - 2071.'

She traced her fingers over the engraved years. _How old am I really?_ she wondered. _If a baby is born in all of time and space, when is her birthday?_ She'd have to ask the Doctor when she next saw him - and she was determined to see him again.

Her hand fell to the simple message carved into the stone. _Amare, memoria, et mysterium._ "Love, memory, and mystery," she murmured with a chuckle. "Could there be anything more appropriate?"

Mystery stood up with a smile, brushing the dirt and snow off her knees and straightening her funeral clothing. "Goodbye, Elizabeth," she whispered. "I so enjoyed my time with you, but that time's done now, and I've got to move on." She kissed her fingers, then pressed them to the cold stone.

After a moment, Mystery stepped back and turned away from her old life. _There's whole universes out there,_ she mused as she walked out of the cemetery. _I wonder what you'd have to do to get out and explore them?_ Whatever it was, she intended to find out.

* * *

 **A.N: It is finished and I am emotional. I take some margin of comfort in knowing that because this epilogue takes place in the year 2071, Mystery is still alive and well somewhere right this very moment. I was careful to leave space for lots more Mystery adventures, as I come up with them.** **Also I'm going to post my quote key that I've been making so faithfully as another chapter right at the end. Read it or don't, it doesn't matter much to me. I just kept it because I like to feel clever. I will also be removing it from my profile after this.**

 **I will be having a sequel, as I'm sure I said, and it will take place after this story but before the epilogue, which should be interesting. It will feature guest appearances from River Song and Torchwood, which I'm extremely excited about as well. Again, if you want to keep updated about what I'm doing, feel free to follow me as an author (and if you want to favorite me too, I certainly won't object). That way I think you'll get an email when I start new stories, at least. I'm not sure what else, honestly.**

 **Incidentally, if anyone can answer Mystery's question there (If a baby is born in all of time and space, when is her birthday?) please let me know, because I am legitimately curious.**

 **Sorry if my Latin isn't perfect, I've never taken any Latin, I just picked that much up from choir but it seemed to fit.**

 **And now, beloved readers, the time has come for me to finally bid you farewell for this story. I shall miss it terribly, and I shall miss hearing from you all so often. You're reviews and messages are the bright spots in my day a lot of times, and I cannot thank you enough. So, much love to you all, and thank you again for sticking with me all the way to the end. It has been one heck of a ride, and I wouldn't have it any other way.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	36. Quote Key

**Mystery Girl Quote Key:** For all you lovely folks who are actually interested. I should point out that in the beginning of this story, I had never seen a full episode, only BBC clips, so many of my quotes are ever so slightly not correct. They get more accurate the farther you go.

 **Chapter 1:**

"Of course I'm making sense, you're just not keeping up!" - A perversion of the Doctor's line in the Hungry Earth, Series 5

 **Chapter 2:**

Not quite a quote, but all three parts of the TARDIS mentioned here are used in the guided adventure Attack of the Graske

 **Chapter 3:**

"I am being extremely clever over here and there's no one to stand around looking impressed. What's the point in having you all?" - The Doctor's line in Day of the Moon, Series 6

"You're just making it up as you go along!" "But I do it brilliantly" - I think this is the Doctor to Mickey from Rise of the Cybermen, Series 2

"It's smaller on the outside!" - Clara Oswin Oswald's reaction upon seeing the TARDIS in The Snowmen, Series 7

 **Chapter 4:**

"Course I haven't got a plan," the Doctor replied, chuckling a bit. "I never have a plan. But people love it when I say that." - One of 11's lines to Clara just before his regeneration in The Time of the Doctor, Series 7

"Talk very fast, hope something good happens. That usually works." - Also from roughly the same scene in the above

"Most species have a weak spot. For Sontarans, back of the neck. For Daleks, aim for the eyestalk. Vashta Nerada, well...never mind that." - Almost 10's line in Silence in the Library, Series 4. It would have ended with "run. Just run."

"There's one thing you need to know about traveling with me, well, one thing apart from the blue box and the two hearts… We don't walk away." - 11 to Clara in one of their first adventures together, right after supposedly leaving Merry behind in The Rings of Akhaten, Series 7

"Whoa, hello," he yelled. "I do the hand-grabbing, that's my job, that's always me!" - 11 to Clara while escaping from the Ice Governess in The Snowmen, Series 7

"When looked at from a nonlinear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's really a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey...stuff." - I think this is a line from the Doctor's speech in Blink, Series 3. You all know the one.

 **Chapter 5:**

"Hush, brain working." - The Doctor says something at least similar to this in Vampires of Venice, Series 5

 **Chapter 7:**

"...let the TARDIS die. Just let that old box gather dust. No one can open it, no one will even notice it. Let it become a strange little thing standing on a street corner, and over the years, the world will move on, and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing… Have a good life. Do that for me." - 9's recorded message for Rose in The Parting of the Ways, Series 1

 **Chapter 9:**

The Doctor's explanation of how the TARDIS is bigger on the inside hails back to the Fourth Doctor explaining it to his companion Leela, almost word for word.

"You can spend your whole life with me, but I can't spend my whole life with you." - Very close to what Ten says to Rose in School Reunion, Series 2

 **Chapter 10:**

"That's how Daleks convert people: subtract love, add hate." - This idea hails directly from Asylum of the Daleks, Series 7

"Patience is for wimps." - The Doctor struggles to live in a house in The Power of Three, Series 7

 **Chapter 11:**

"I think you'll find I am universally recognized as a mature and responsible adult." - This recalls a rather interesting babysitting attempt in A Christmas Carol, Series 6

The entirety of the beginning of the Doctor's phone call to UNIT comes from Planet of the Dead, Series 3. Captain Magambo and Malcolm Taylor are from here as well, although they may have been mentioned in other places as well

Not exactly a quote, but Ahren is almost Bulgarian for Angel. I like to feel clever.

 **Chapter 12:**

"I am an idiot with a box and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out." - Part of 12's speech in Death in Heaven, Series 8

"With that chin, you could put someone's eye out." - One of my favorite Oswin Oswald lines in Asylum of the Daleks, Series 7

The speech from Blink, you know the one, is here in it's almost entirety as well. You can find it, you're smart.

 **Chapter 14:**

"Nothing is ever impossible… Just a bit unlikely." - One of my personal favorite lines from the show, 10 says something close to this at least twice in The Doctor's Daughter, Series 4

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Father, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," - Hamlet! Go Clara! Except it's Horatio, not Father, but close enough

 **Chapter 17:**

"But this is one corner of one country of one continent on one planet that's a corner of a galaxy that's a corner of a universe that is forever growing and shrinking and creating and growing and never remaining the same for a single millisecond… I'm not running away from things. I'm running to them. Before they flare and fade forever." I absolutely adore this quote of 11's from The Power of Three, Series 7

 **Chapter 18:**

"Sixty-two years, four months, and three days" - This is a combination of two: Clara was left behind by the Doctor for 62 years in Last Christmas, Series 8. The four months and three days are the month and day amount that Amy was left in the care facility in The Girl Who Waited, Series 6

I won't type it out again, but all of Clara and the Doctor's conversation in the scene directly following the above quote also come from Last Christmas, Series 8

"Time can be rewritten-" "No, Doctor… Not those times. Don't you dare." The Doctor and River's exchange in both Forest of the Dead, Series 4, and The Wedding of River Song (I think), Series 6

"...if you rescue me, I'll cease to exist. Everything I've seen and done dissolves. Time is rewritten. I will die. Another Clara will take my place, one who never lived that time, one who grew old with you, and she, in sixty-two years, won't be me." - Amy's speech to Rory and through him, the Doctor when they offer to rescue her in The Girl Who Waited, Series 6

"This is the Doctor we're talking about, he's in a codependent relationship with a screwdriver, I mean, if he had to choose between an enormous, complicated machine he could fix with a toolkit and a girl, who would he go with?... Yeah, you're right… Both of them. Using the same toolkit." - This is a line from a hilarious short, Clara and the TARDIS

 **Chapter 19:**

Mauve being the universally recognized color for danger comes from The Empty Child, Series 1

"Where's a Silurian audience when you need one?" - From another time the Doctor bemoaned a lack of appreciation in Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, Series 7

"Triple seven five slash three four nine by ten zero twelve slash...acorn" - These are the coordinates River Song gives the Doctor through black box in Time of the Angels, Series 5

"Yeah. Well, it's just boring now, isn't it? They're boring-ers. They're blue boring-ers." - One of Eleven's lines from his tiff with River in The Time of the Angels, Series 5

 **Chapter 20:**

"It's Britain, but metal. It's not just a ship, it's an idea. That's a whole country, living and laughing and shopping. Searching the stars for a new home." - Eleven's description of Starship UK to Amy in The Beast Below, Series 5

"...the angel's food source. The paradox poisons the well. It could kill them all. This whole place would literally unhappen." - River's idea in The Angels Take Manhattan, Series 7

"To create a paradox like that takes almost unimaginable power." - And this is the Doctor's response to the above line.

"Life and soul, you are." - Clara makes this same remark to I believe the War Doctor in The Day of the Doctor, Series 7

"Give it some squirts of helicon energy, setting number forty one. No more than three seconds each, random pulses." - The Doctor's instructions to Clara in The Caretaker, Series 8

"Run, you clever boy, and remember." - Clara's famous last words, used several times. I think you know where they are

 **Chapter 21:**

"I escaped, then. Brilliant. I love it when I do that. Legs, yes. Bow tie, cool." - Eleven's line upon waking up in the TARDIS in The Big Bang, Series 6

"Everything I find out makes less sense." - This line, which I completely adore, comes from the Doctor's adventures in Closing Time, Series 6

"I don't always take you where you want to go, but I always take you where you need to go." - One of the most famous lines associated with the TARDIS (next to 'bigger on the inside,' of course), this hails from The Doctor's Wife, Series 6

 **Chapter 22:**

I borrowed the setting for this chapter from the short She Said, He Said, which is a prequel to The Name of the Doctor. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it

 **Chapter 23:**

"You stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power of time and space, just a child. Some would be inspired, some would run away, and some would go mad." "And which were you?" "Oh, the ones that ran away. I never really stopped." - I forget exactly the circumstances surrounding this but it's from The Sound of Drums, Series 3

 **Chapter 24:**

"...do you have to pass a test?" "Yes, and I failed." - This rather amusing revelation comes from The Shakespeare Code, Series 3

Four knocks. I couldn't resist. We know what that's about, I think

The holding cells he mentioned I borrowed from the Daleks, who use them to contain the Doctor, Rose, and maybe someone else too (I forget exactly) in Journey's End, Series 4

"You've redecorated! I don't like it" - This has been used all over the place by several different Doctors. He doesn't like change, I guess, which seems rather ironic to me…

"Good men don't need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many." - This is, in my opinion, one of the most epic lines in the entire series. It comes from A Good Man Goes To War, Series 6

 **Chapter 25:**

"Stay with me! Come on, you can do it, stay with me!" - This is an echo of Ten's last line to River's data ghost as he was running to save her to CAL in Forest of the Dead, Series 4

"Since always. Since the Cloister Wars. Since the night he stole the moon and the President's wife. Since he was a little girl. One of those was a lie. Can you guess which one?" - Missy describing her friendship with the Doctor in The Magician's' Apprentice, Series 9

"Time Lady, please. I'm old-fashioned." - Another sassy Missy quote, this one from Dark Water, Series 8

"You keep trying to kill him." "He keeps trying to kill me! We've been at it for ages. It's sort of our texting." - Missy on the Doctor once again from The Magician's Apprentice, Series 9

 **Chapter 26:**

"Mystery! Get your coat!" - The Doctor yells the same thing to Amy while she is captive at Demon's Run in A Good Man Goes To War, Series 6

"I have got a time machine, Madame Architect. It's all still going on. For me, it never stops. Liz the First is still waiting in a glade to elope with me. I could help Rose Tyler with her homework. I could go on all of Jack's stag parties in one night. Time has _never_ laid a glove on me." - Scary Eleven's line to Dorium Maldovar in The Wedding of River Song, Series 6

"Sorry? What did you say? Did you mention the rules? Now, bit of advice. Tell me the truth, if you think you know it, lay down the law, if you're feeling brave, but. Madame Architect, never, _ever,_ tell me the rules!" - This parodies Eleven's speech just before he regenerates (sort of) in The Time of the Doctor, Series 7

"A great, big, whopping mistake." - I feel certain Eleven has said this more than once, but I remember it from Flesh and Stone, Series 5

"My friends have always been the best of me." - This broke my heart in The Wedding of River Song, Series 6

 **Chapter 27:**

"People are like mayflies, breeding and dying and breeding and dying, on and on and on, repeating the same mistakes." - This is by no means word for word, but the idea hails directly from The Woman Who Lived, Series 9

"Never trust a man about his machine." - I swear this is a quote but it doesn't exist on the internet. Maybe I dreamed it but I'm certain enough that I'm going to put it here anyway, and if you find it, please let me know!

"Everything was still. Absolutely still." - The ever so famous last lines of certain chapters in The Magic Treehouse books. I couldn't resist

 **Chapter 28:**

I borrowed the memory filters from UNIT, if you were curious. They can be seen in The Day of the Doctor and now both The Zygon Invasion and The Zygon Inversion, both Series 9

"And that force field can hold back anything. So-" "Almost anything." "Yes, well, I wasn't going to tell them that. Thanks." - A very similar exchange occurs between Nine and Captain Jack Harkness in The Parting of the Ways, Series 1

"Oh, I am prepared to believe you any second now." - I borrowed this line from BBC's Sherlock, actually. Scandal in Belgravia, I believe was the episode, when the weird American guy was going to shoot John if Sherlock didn't bust into Irene's safe

 **Chapter 29:**

"Clara, you've saved my life so many times. Just once, just for the hell of it, let me save you!" - This is Eleven to Clara while she's in his time stream in The Name of the Doctor, Series 7

 **Chapter 30:**

"Course I'm okay, I'm always okay, I'm the king of okay." - The younger Eleven says this to Amy in The Impossible Astronaut, Series 6

"Are you my mummy?" - I feel this hardly even needs to be cited, but this is The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances, both Series 1. Ten also made a reference to this once, but I don't know what episode it was

"Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose." - A very famous line of Twelve's in Kill the Moon, Series 8

 **Chapter 31:**

"I'll just reverse the polarity of the neutron flow" - I'm sure you all know this, I know it's a Classic Who line but I don't know from when or who. It was used at least once in The Day of the Doctor, Series 7, and possibly elsewhere in New Who as well

"Better a broken heart than no heart at all." - This incredibly tragic line comes from A Christmas Carol, Series 6

 **Chapter 32:**

"You're talking nonsense to distract me, aren't you?" - This is one of his known characteristic, according to Osgood in The Zygon Inversion, Series 9

"You stepped into the heart of the Tardis. Even I don't know how strong that is. And the ship's telepathic. Gets inside your head. Translates alien languages. Maybe the raw energy can translate all sorts of thoughts." - This and all the further events the Doctor describes come from Boom Town, Series 1

"The last time I was dying, I looked back on all of you. All my companions. Every single one. And I was so _proud."_ \- That awkward moment when you quote a show you've never seen. This is from the spinoff The Sarah Jane Adventures, in the episode Death of the Doctor

 _The one adventure you can never have. -_ Oh, I cry. The Doctor says something similar to this to Rose in Doomsday, Series 2

 **Chapter 33:**

"Dad skills." - Quite possibly my shortest quote ever, this comes from right after the Doctor puts little Danny to sleep in Listen, Series 8

 **Chapter 34:**

"Could we have some coffee along here please? The good kind. We've got a new one. Five minutes, tops. It's best to wait for the good coffee. Sometimes it's just the instant." - This quote, and Seb's entire character, are borrowed from Dark Water, Series 8. Although this is totally not canon at all, I like to think that Missy would choose admin people who already have some experience with that sort of thing, so why not have him working for UNIT? I'm rather fond of this little headcanon.

"Today is March 26, 2005" - The airdate of the first episode of New Who. Also the day Rose meets the Doctor and Clara's mum died… Anyway

Also, another date quote: Elizabeth shares a birthday with Steven Moffat

"We borrowed it from a friend over in Torchwood. His own recipe, with a touch of denial and a dash of Retcon. A little bit of sedative, too." - And by friend at Torchwood I mean Captain Jack Harkness. He uses this same amnesiac on Gwen Cooper in Everything Changes, the very first episode of the Torchwood spinoff

 **Epilogue:**

Mystery 'dies' at age 87, the same age as Amy

She was supposedly raised in the West County Children's Home in Gloucester, which is the same home visited by Clara and the Doctor in Listen, Series 8

Her daughter-in-law is the Adelaide Brooke of The Waters of Mars, yes. I'm ridiculously fond of this idea, even though it's so tiny nobody will ever catch it, probably, but that is the point of this key, after all


	37. Website!

**A.N: Yeah so I said I was done and I am, I just wanted to share something with you. A fellow author and huge fan has made a very nice website about this story. If you want to go check it out, it is www. mysterygirlfanclub. myfreesites. net without any of the spaces. I'm very grateful to her and I simply had to give her some credit for what she did!**


	38. We Have A Sequel!

**A.N: Hello all! Last thing, I promise. The first chapter of my sequel is now up and running, and I'm pretty excited about it. It is entitled It Only Takes A Moment, which you can take as you like (however you take it, you're probably right). You can find it either by going to my profile page or simply searching for the story, although I expect you'll have to work to narrow the search down :) I hope you enjoy!**


	39. And It's A Trilogy

HELLO EVERYONE!

Guess what. If you haven't heard, this series is now recieving a _third_ story called She's Back. The first five chapters are up as of now, so there's plenty to dive right into. If you've enjoyed this story and the other as well, I highly highly recommend you keep going. I owe Mystery a big finish, and I'd hate for you all to miss it. We'll have all the old favorite faces, as well as some new ones, and a few that just might surprise you if I play my cards right. Here's hoping. See you in the reviews of She's Back!

-Forever the Optimist


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